“And I suppose that’s how you feel right now.” Gale gave him a teasing smile. “A little bored.”
Jimmie grinned back at her, then exclaimed—“Not on your life!”
Then suddenly Gale forgot all this. “Jimmie!” she exclaimed, nodding toward a table in the corner. “See that woman in purple?”
“Yes,” he whispered back. “Rather striking, isn’t she? An Indian woman of very high class. Perhaps a little European blood in her veins. But what about her?”
“She’s the woman I saw out at the field last night. She was searching the field just as I was until I made her go away. Jimmie!” she gripped his arm. “I suspect her of having the third secret of radar.”
“What? Impossible!”
“But why impossible?” she demanded.
“She is of very high rank. No others are allowed here except a few like myself who have been introduced by regular—ah—members, you might say.”
“There have been high class spies,” she insisted.
“Not many,” he argued.