Kitty had her initiation that day in the wonderful work which the Red Cross does in emergencies. As there was no adequate kitchen within easy reach of the homeless people, cooking racks had been set up in the open.
“If this were night and there was danger of air raids,” Miss Pearson explained to a group of Canteen apprentices who stood around the cook fire, “we’d have to cover our cook fire completely to keep it from being seen overhead.”
“My brother in the Coast Guard says even a match struck in the marshes can be seen by a passing plane,” Sally told them.
Soon pots were steaming with coffee, while huge saucepans held bubbling cereal. Kitty, with three other girls, improvised a table and benches where the children could sit to eat. In her group was Mrs. Janice, a member of the nutrition class, whom Vera had pointed out as a resident of the cannery district. She was an uneducated woman with an eager willingness to do everything in her power to help. Three of her sons were in the service. Though she and her other two children were now left homeless, she was doing her bit to help her fellow sufferers.
“There’s talk that the cannery was set afire,” she told Kitty when they went off together to tear some loose planks from a small section of the cannery that had not burned.
“Really! What have you heard about it?” Kitty said, encouraging Mrs. Janice to talk.
“The night watchman said he saw a stranger in dark clothes hurrying past the factory not ten minutes before he discovered the fire.” Then she added in a lower tone, “A sailor, too, he claims.”
Could it be possible that the boy she had seen on the bus had done this awful thing? But Kitty tried not to show her suspicions as she said, “But people must constantly pass by the cannery.”
“That’s so, of course, but you know how it is. You hear all sorts o’ talk. People round here were mighty careful ’bout fire, knowing how shoddy our houses were.”
“Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise. You’ll certainly have better homes to live in after this.”