“But then,” his voice dropped, “probably your ‘put-puts’ come from a flight of planes crossing to North Africa.”
“Or from a convoy.”
“Sure. We, too, have our secret methods of communication, but if your old friend has invented a new one, they’ll make him an admiral.”
“It’s up to me to prove it. That’s why I’m so anxious about it.”
“It is? Well, then, we’ll really dig in. Try out my code idea. Then we’ll meet again at sunset tomorrow.”
“It’s a date.” She left the lab with a smile. Even if nothing came of this code idea she had made a grand friend and that was always worth while.
Late that evening while others wrote letters, read or slept, Sally gave herself over once more to solving the riddle of the secret radio and its “put-puts.” She had made very little progress when the signal sounded for lights out.
“Oh, dear!” she sighed. “No day is ever long enough.”
She had been in bed for a half hour but had not fallen asleep when suddenly she caught a gleam of light from Barbara’s bed.
“Barbara!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing?”