“Let me go! We’ve got—”
She did not finish, for a pair of hands seized her and shook her hard. “You fool!” a voice hissed. “Want to get—”
The voice was drowned by a roar that tore the very earth about them, and seemed to lift their air raid shelter up to let it gently down again.
“That,” said Mac, “was one whale of a bomb.” Gale looked at Mac. He was seated before her. Who was behind her? Who had perhaps—no, most certainly had saved her life?
“We’ll have some hot tea,” Mac said calmly, as he reached for a small charcoal burner in a dark corner.
“Tea? Oh yes, tea.” Gale’s head was in a whirl.
CHAPTER VIII
I’ll Get Two of You
Gale struggled to her feet so suddenly that she banged her head on the low ceiling of the air raid shelter.
“We—we’ve got to get out of here,” she exclaimed. “Just got to down one of those bombers. We—” She stopped short. The roar of more exploding enemy bombs drowned the sound of her voice.
And then, ten times louder, though from some distance off, came another roar.