It was evident at once from the nervous movements of Betty’s hands before the television camera that the affair of the night before had left her greatly excited.
They discussed the situation very thoroughly.
As they left the spotter shed Lieutenant Warren said, “It looks very much as if we were heading straight into a crisis of one sort or another. Such things as these can’t go on. Big planes don’t always crash-land safely in the sea.”
“They seldom do,” Norma added.
“That black pigeon of Betty’s was taken from the shore by some traitor to our cause, and put aboard some craft.”
“Probably the sub,” Norma suggested.
“Yes, and in this way every secret of our defense will in time leak out.”
“And any number of spies may land on our shores. Which leads us—
“To Carl Langer, his black pigeons, his rich estate, his masterpiece, and, just perhaps, to the Spanish hairdresser.” Norma found herself rather breathless at the end of this speech.
“You hope for too much,” was the Lieutenant’s quiet comment. “However, we will present Carl Langer with our calling card.”