“Come along, sister. What’s wrong with you? Drunk? Or just plain nuts—or nothin’ at all?”
“It’s the guardhouse for her,” a second M. P. predicted loudly.
Realizing that for the moment nothing could be accomplished, Norma joined three grinning young pilots as they followed the M. P.’s and Rosa across the field.
“What’s the matter with that girl?” one of the pilots asked in a friendly tone.
“I don’t know,” was all Norma could say.
“She was with you, wasn’t she?” a second pilot asked.
Norma made no reply.
“She really had that plane going,” said the first pilot. “One minute more, and she’d have been right up in the sky.”
“And there’s secrets in those planes that nobody but us are supposed to know,” put in number three. “By George! Maybe she’s a spy!”
“Hush,” said Norma. “She’s no more a spy than you are. She’s a WAC.”