Jet planes -- Juvenile fiction; Mystery and detective stories; War stories; World War, 1939-1945 -- Juvenile fiction
Don’t trust those men with the strange plane. We think they are
dangerous. We have heard them talking German.
That was all. The note was not signed. Who were “we”? To this there was
no answer.
Jack felt a warm wave of friendliness sweep over him as he pocketed the
note. Some one on this island wished to befriend him. A vision of the
tall, slender girl whose roast pork had so excited the natives, and
whose smile was most engaging, came before his eyes.
She might have written it, he told himself. Then again, perhaps not.
There might be white people hiding on the island. Who knows?
Suddenly, as he rounded a coco plum bush, he caught a glimpse of that
same girl. She was on her knees at the foot of a great coconut palm
tree.
Seems to be praying to the spirit of the palm, he thought, as he watched
her from the shadows.
He knew soon enough that his guess was poor. The girl was removing dried
leaves and palm fronds from a spot at the foot of a tree. After throwing
aside a square of brown canvas, she carefully lifted something white
from its place of hiding.
Jack could not see what this was, but he was not long in finding out,
for the girl stood up and held before her a white dress.
“An Army nurse’s uniform,” Jack whispered to himself. He shuddered
involuntarily.
In a twinkling, without removing her thin, one-piece garment, the girl
had the white dress on, and a cap of white on her hair.
After that, attired as a nurse, she did a strange little dance all by
herself. Stooping over, she took a small square mirror from the hiding
place. This she hung against the tree. Standing there, she surveyed
herself in the mirror. Jack too, caught a glimpse of her face in the
glass. Her dark face stood out strangely against the stark white of her
dress. There was a curious look of animation and amusement on her face.
Once she laughed, then shook her fist at the face in the mirror.
Then, as her shoulders drooped in an attitude of utter sadness, she
removed the dress and nurse’s cap, to return them to their hiding place.
Realizing that she might come out on the trail at any moment, Jack
hurried past the spot while she was covering her treasures. Jack
hurriedly and quietly put some distance between them.
His head was in a whirl. Who was this girl? Why had she come here, and
how had she come into possession of the nurse’s costume? It was all very
strange and disturbing. Dark forebodings took possession of him as he
hurried along over the damp, heavily shaded path.
CHAPTER XVI
MOSTLY MEMORIES
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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