“The Harpers have asked me to be godfather for their son.” “Oh, Ned, that’s super!” “Imagine me a father and a godfather all in one week!” Judy, Sally and Mrs. Evans drew nearer to add their congratulations to Kitty’s. “You’ve all got to drink a hot chocolate with me to celebrate,” continued Ned proudly. “It’s on me this time!” Mrs. Evans poured the chocolate, and topped it with an unusually generous spoonful of whipped cream. “This is on the Canteen,” she said, and they all made merry over the great event. “You must all come to the christening a week from Sunday at the little chapel a block from the hospital.” Hazel came presently and took Ned off for some dancing. As Kitty watched them go there was a tender light in her eyes. How happy she felt to realize that she had made the sun break through the fog for at least one boy! During a lull in business some time later she drew up a stool and watched the activities in the large hall. At the right in an open space around the piano a dozen or more couples danced while a marine kept the keys warm with his nimble fingers. In the space directly in front of the bar were tables where couples and foursomes played all manner of games. Some boys lolled on couches or in large armchairs with books or magazines, while others sat at desks against the wall, writing letters home, apparently unmindful of the confusion around them. Presently Kitty’s survey was checked as her gaze came to rest once more on Lieutenant Cary playing chess again. This time the players were sitting so she could see the profiles of both men. Instantly she recognized the physician’s partner as the dark-faced boy, Punaro, whom she had seen on the bus that memorable night before the big fire at the cannery. The last time she had noticed Cary here he was playing with Chief Commissary Steward Krome. She wondered why he was on such intimate terms with the galley staff. Presently she was aware that Hazel Dawson had returned to the bar and was sitting on a stool across the counter. “Does Lieutenant Cary come here very often?” she asked. “Only occasionally.” “Does he always play chess with someone from the galley?” Kitty sent Hazel a surprised glance. “Yes, both times I’ve seen him playing. The other night it was the Chief Commissary Steward, Krome.” “I can understand that. Krome has his rank. But tonight he buddies with the boy who empties our wastebaskets.” Kitty bent closer and lowered her voice. “Do you know anything about him—the Punaro fellow?” Hazel showed surprise at the question as she countered, “Why do you ask? Do you know anything about him?” “He was here the other night.” She thought of adding that they had come home on the same bus the night of the cannery fire, but caution silenced her. There were too many around who might have keen ears. Brad came in later. “You’re almost a stranger,” Kitty greeted him. Hazel went off with one of the boys who claimed her for a dance, and Brad leaned closer.