All the time she was listening, watching. The plane might return. The roar of motors, the rat-tat-tat of machine-gun fire now seemed far away. But who could tell what a moment might bring?
With her companion lying on a sunny rock, Jan rushed back to the cellar for a gallon thermos bottle filled with cold water.
Back at Gale’s side, in her excitement she poured the entire contents of the bottle on Gale’s face. Some of it went into Gale’s mouth. Suddenly she sat up, coughing and spouting water.
“Oh! Oh! Thank God you’re not dead!” Jan was fairly beside herself with joy.
“Of—of course not,” Gale sputtered.
“Well, anyway, you passed out.”
“Wha—what happened?” Gale asked.
“It wasn’t a direct hit,”—Jan glanced about. “If it had been it would have blown us to glory. It blew the top of our hideout and your radar set down to the rocks below.”
“We—we have to get that radar set. Remember. Three Secrets of Radar!” Gale was feeling better. “Listen!” she whispered. “They’re coming back.”
“Oh, no.” Jan studied the sky. “The fighting is far away.”