“You did not really mean to try communicating with anyone on land?” he asked in a quiet tone.
“Only in case of a great emergency, and then only with an officer.” Her voice was low.
“I can think of no emergency that would warrant the sending of such a message. The truth is that such a message would be almost certain to bring in one more sub wolf-pack to hunt us down.
“That is not all.” He was still speaking in a low, friendly voice. “The moment our enemy realizes that we are able to listen in on his talk from sub to sub, that moment your radio loses its value. Think what it will mean if the escorting vessel in every convoy should be able in the future to listen as we did today while the wolf-pack moves in!”
“I-I have thought.” Sally wet her dry lips. “I shall not attempt to contact anyone with my radio, unless you sanction it—not—” she swallowed hard, “not for anything.”
“That is being a good sailor.” Putting out a hand he said: “It will be a pleasure to shake the hand of a lady who does honor to the Navy.” They shook hands solemnly.
When at last Sally and Nancy found themselves on the open deck once more, they were in prime condition for a long promenade.
“My head is in a whirl!” Nancy exclaimed. “How could all this happen to us?”
“We’re just what Danny would call fools for kick,” was Sally’s reply.
And then, at the very mention of Danny, she felt an all but irrepressible desire to sink down on the deck. Danny too should have had a part in all this. And where was he now?