“So! Since when have I had to take orders from you?”
Nancy ignored the question and continued, “You know perfectly well that the rest of us tore up the letters we wrote in the swamp before we knew we were not to write descriptions of what we had been doing. Those letters you have must have been written back there. You’ve had no time for writing since we came on here.”
Tini ignored the plain truth with which she had been faced and started on toward camp. Nancy caught up with her, saying, “If you don’t do one or the other you’ll place me in the embarrassing position of having to report what just happened to Lieutenant Hauser.”
“So you’re one of the spying, little tattletales!”
Nancy’s brown eyes were full of fire now as she said, “Tini Hoffman, this is no schoolgirl business we’re in. Thousands of lives may sometime be at stake because some thoughtless person like you has seen no sense in certain censorship restrictions. If we don’t conform to those regulations now, it’ll be too late to learn how when we get over there. I’m taking no chances, Tini, no matter what you or anyone else may call me.”
With this statement Nancy swung away from Tini and took the nearest path back to camp. Before the tent tops were in sight, however, Tini overtook her.
“All right,” she said in a peevish tone, “if it’ll ease your pain I’ll burn the dern letters.”
“That’s the sensible thing, Tini.”
They stalked on under the sighing pines in silence. Nancy felt quite wretched over the whole situation, not only at Tini’s persistent disregard of the regulations, but at the awkwardness of her own position in discovering her at it, time and again.
However, she was determined to see that Tini did burn the letters, and said as they came in sight of the cook’s fire, “You could burn the letters there, Tini, and have it over with.”