“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.” With the aid of Mrs. Janice’s fourteen-year-old son, Jerry, they found a half dozen boards from which they managed to make a table. The Canteen workers were soon helping the hungry children to bowls of hot cereal and milk as they lined up at the table. Some of them were upset at being separated from their parents, but Kitty had a way of stilling their fears as she satisfied their hunger. When their breakfast was over, Kitty gave each of them an apple and herded them over near the swings. She solicited the aid of some older boys and girls to keep the younger children amused while their parents ate. Then for two hours she helped wash the mountain-like pile of dishes. “How long will we have to feed them?” she asked Mrs. Evans, when she was finally drying her hands. “Tired already?” “Oh, no—that is, of course I’m tired, but I didn’t mean it that way. I was just wondering what’s to be done about all these people. Where will they sleep tonight? What will they do till more homes can be built?”