“She told you about the Interceptor Control?” The girl’s whisper invited confidence.
At once Norma was on her guard. “We talked about Boom Town,” she replied evenly. “It’s interesting. Built so quickly, and all that. Yet it looks warm and cozy.”
“Boom Town. Oh! Yes, it’s quite grand.” These words were spoken without enthusiasm.
After that they talked about trivial things—clothes, shampoos, and the weather. Twice the strange girl led back to the Interceptor Control. Twice Norma led her away again.
“Now why would she, a hairdresser, want to talk about Interceptor Control?” she asked herself.
As she left the chair she was not a little surprised to see the tall recruit, Lena, waiting to take her place. More surprising was the fact that as Lena’s eyes met the hairdresser’s, there appeared to pass between them an instant flash of recognition.
“And Lena hasn’t been on the grounds a whole day!” she thought with a start.
“Spies!” her mind registered as she left the building. Then she threw back her head and laughed. “Spies in the heart of America!” she whispered. “In a woman’s camp! I’m getting a spy complex—seeing ghosts under the bed! What’s the matter with me?”
That evening, not wishing to retire at the “lights out” signal, she sought out the day room that is used at night, and found it.
It was a comfortable place, that day room. Half underground, it was not subject to draft. A large round stove gave off a genial glow and plenty of heat. A large cushioned lounging chair awaited her.