Vera came out of the kitchen just as the two men straddled the stools at the counter and she took Lieutenant Cary’s order. Kitty’s hand was a little unsteady as she poured Krome’s cup of coffee. “We have some special sandwiches tonight,” Judy explained to the two customers, “made by our new Canteen worker, Miss Kitty Carter.” “I’ll take two,” Krome spoke up promptly. When Kitty faced the head cook squarely he seemed such a hearty, good-natured sort her suspicions evaporated like the steam above his coffee cup. “So you’re now a full-fledged Canteen worker.” Though Lieutenant Cary’s smile and words were friendly enough his tone held a slight cynicism. “I wasn’t a bit prouder when I donned my cap and gown at graduation from college, than when I put on my uniform the first time,” she said frankly. “They got something when they got you, young lady,” spoke up Krome warmly. “These sandwiches ain’t to be sneezed at.” “Why, I’m thrilled that you think so! They tell me you can serve some very good things over at the hospital, and I can vouch for it myself the few times I’ve eaten there.” “So you’re Chief Carter’s daughter?” “And proud I am to have the honor.” Krome finished the last crumb of his sandwich, and said, “How about giving me the recipe for that sandwich filling?” Kitty looked disconcerted. “If you feed the boys on it at the hospital they may not want our sandwiches down here.” “I’ll promise not to do that.” Kitty laughed. “Oh, really, I wouldn’t be that selfish. You’re welcome to the recipe. And maybe you’d do me a favor in return.” Krome looked surprised. “Me do you a favor?” he asked, indicating himself, then Kitty with his fat hand. Then he laughed as if it were a great joke. “I heard the boys talking about your grand shrimp creole—and that they don’t get it often enough. How about giving me that recipe?” “Oh, that? Sure. We’ll swap recipes then. I’ll bring it next time I come.” When the men had gone Judy said with a sniff, “If you ever get a recipe out of him you’ll do better than Mrs. Evans has. He’s promised her several and never brought them.” “Maybe he’ll pay more attention to my request if he wants a recipe from me.” At ten-thirty when Kitty put on her light wrap to go home she was really tired. But how glowingly happy she felt at the realization that her job had been well done! Brad was waiting for her. Though it was only March there was more than a hint of spring in the balmy night air, and the stars seemed close and warm in a sky like deep purple porcelain. Neither of them spoke while they walked the first block. Then Brad said, “You wanted to ask me about something?” “Yes, I did. But somehow it seems absurd to be suspicious of anyone on a night like this.” “Well, forget it.” After an interval he asked, “Think you’re going to enjoy the Canteen work?” “I’m crazy about it. But really it seems so little to do when there’s so much to be done.”