Lena went along. The journey out was uneventful. Norma and Betty took turns at the wheel. Their experience piloting boats at summer camps stood them in good stead.
As Black Knob loomed up larger, they made out trees growing like bushy hair on its crest and, close beside a small harbor formed by an outcropping of rocks, a group of fishermen’s cottages and summer tourist cabins.
A small, bright-eyed man with a full gray beard took their line at the narrow dock.
“Lieutenant Warren!” he exclaimed. “I am glad to see you. The girls have been telling me on short wave radio about you and one of your workers. They call her Norma.”
“This is Norma,” said Miss Warren, helping Norma out of the boat.
“Ah,” said the little man. “I am indeed glad to meet you. As you must have guessed, I am the grandfather of Bess and Beth. Dudley Norton is the name I drew when I was born.” He laughed in a friendly, cackling way. “And here,” he added, as a nine-year-old girl came dancing down the path, “is my chief assistant, Patsy. Her principal task is keeping the bad Gremlins away.”
“Gremlins,” said Norma. “What are Gremlins?”
“Oh! They are little people,” the girl, who was the living picture of Bess and Beth, explained. “The bad ones put ice on your airplane’s wings and stop up your guns when you want to shoot. But the good ones get out, hundreds and hundreds of them, and blow on the sea to make a big storm when the enemy subs are about.”
“Oh! That’s the way it is,” Lieutenant Warren said. “But aren’t you afraid to live way out here when so many Gremlins are about?”
“No!” said the girl. “I’m not afraid.” She took her grandfather’s hand. “Besides I’m not allowed to be afraid. Grandfather and I have a big job to do over here on Black Knob—and we’re in for the duration, aren’t we, Grandpa?”