For a full half hour, with flashlights painting circular patterns of light on the grey earth, they continued the search. Twice Jimmie came to her with the query:
“How about this?”
Both times the reply was: “Nope. That’s not it.”
The third time was the charm. “Jimmie!” she cried. “That’s really one of the secrets of radar! It’s in perfect condition, too! Oh! Jimmie! You’re a jewel!”
“I’m glad you think so,” he replied soberly. “I was afraid you’d think I was a heel the way I dragged you into that raid shelter a while back.”
“I—I didn’t like it,” she admitted. “But that’s all forgiven now.”
“Really,”—his voice was husky—“I did just the right thing. In war, you have to be daring but must never be reckless. Your life, Gale, is the one priceless thing you have to give to your country. Your radar set, your car, my plane,—all that we have and use, can be replaced. When you and I are gone, it’s final. So for your family’s sake, for Uncle Sam, and for me, save yourself for a good long fight.”
“Jimmie,” she whispered, “That’s a grand speech. I won’t forget it, ever.”
“But there’s one more secret of radar lying around loose. We just must find it,” she whispered.
“It may be gone for good,” was his answer. “But we can try.”