After a hearty meal eaten in a big bright cafeteria where all the people seemed carefree and gay, she stepped out to see the lights of Des Moines at night.
Thrills she had experienced more than once came to her from exploring a strange city at night. Certainly exploring a city of friendly people, many of whom smiled at her in a kindly way as she marched along in her spick-and-span uniform, could not be dangerous.
For an hour she prowled the streets alone. Past dark public buildings that loomed at her from the night, down narrow dark streets where taxi drivers and workers sat or stood before narrow lunch counters, she wandered. And then back to the broad street where lights were bright and the throngs were gay.
A feeling of utter loneliness drove her once again into the shadows. And there she met with a startling adventure.
CHAPTER VII
A HAND IN THE DARK
She had rounded a corner and was walking slowly north, admiring the sight of the moon shining over the jagged line of rooftops, when suddenly two figures emerged from a narrow alley to turn in ahead of her.
“Been taking a short cut,” she thought.
The steady swinging stride of the taller of the two girls, as they marched on before her, suggested that she might be a WAC.
“But she’s wearing civilian clothes,” she told herself in surprise.