For a full hour the ship’s whistle spoke and the radio joined in. Sally was there at the center of it all and enjoyed it immensely.
The tanker at the back of the convoy and to the right was slipping behind. She advised them to shovel more coal. The English packet was crowding its mate to the right. She shoved it out to sea. The big, one-time ocean liner, now a transport, laden with boys in khaki, was straying and might get itself lost. She called it in a few boat-lengths. The three liberty ships were getting too chummy with one another. She spread them apart.
At the end of the hour she glanced at the long seat. Riggs was gone. She was alone with the ships and the storm. With a little gasp, she returned to her duties.
When she made the rounds of the ships for the second time the other radiomen began to notice her.
“Say! You’re all right!” the man on the big transport exclaimed over the radio. “You’re all right, but you sound like a lady. Are you?”
“No chance,” was the snapping answer, “only a WAVE.”
“What do you know about that?”
“Hello, Sally!” came from a liberty ship. “How are you? I saw your picture in a movie!”
“You didn’t!” she exploded.
“Come on over and I’ll show it to you!” he jibed.