CHAPTER XIII
A WOLF IN WAC’S CLOTHING
The Sea Tower was all that could be desired. To Norma’s romantic young mind it offered both comfort and romance.
“It used to be a lighthouse,” the young sergeant, who led them up the stairs next morning, explained. “There are dangerous shoals off shore around Black Knob Island. Fishing boats have often been wrecked there in storms. Now there are modern lights to the north and south of us.”
“I saw one flashing from the north,” Millie put in.
“That’s Fisherman’s Home light. The light in this tower was taken out long ago. It’s been empty for a long time.”
“And now it’s been all fixed up for us, like Mrs. Hobby’s stables.” Norma laughed.
“You going to work here?” the sergeant asked in surprise.
“Sure enough!”
“Well, blow me down!” He stared for a moment—then without further comment, led them to a large circular room where three officers and six enlisted men were working with maps, charts, and typewriters.