Canteens (Establishments) -- Juvenile fiction; World War, 1939-1945 -- Juvenile fiction
“As you have probably guessed Willard Dawson lost out here for the very
shortage I am now facing.”
“But I’m sure he was not to blame either. Who could look at his fine
face and believe him capable of—of anything dishonest? He simply
couldn’t be a traitor any more than you, Dad!”
“Of course we feel certain of that. That’s why I asked to be sent here.
I’ve been in hopes of clearing up the situation.”
“Hazel came here for the same reason, didn’t she?”
“Yes, she did. But so far—that is until you told me all this tonight
I’ve run into nothing but snags.”
“Just what did you mean when you said there was a shortage?”
“All medical supplies must pass through my hands. I have to O.K. all
orders. I have been most careful in making those orders—yet at the end
of each month the sum total of materials used far exceeds the normal
use of a hospital our size.”
“You mean medicines, bandages and things like that, Dad?”
“All expendable supplies used in the hospital—medical supplies, of
course.”
“Those are the kind of things they’d be badly in need of on a German
sub?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Do you suppose those sneaks are getting some of the stuff out of the
hospital along with the food?”
“In fact, Kitty, the whole set-up may be for the purpose of getting our
medical supplies instead of food. Almost anyone can get hold of food to
let the enemy have, but the drug business is quite a different thing.”
Kitty felt the gooseflesh prickle along her spine.
“Oh, Dad, suppose I hadn’t paid any attention to all those queer
things!”
“Don’t be too complacent about it all, Kitty. We haven’t caught the
saboteurs yet, nor pinned anything on anybody.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
FURTHER REVELATIONS
They brought Billy home from the hospital the next day. Like most husky
youngsters he was soon playing around the house, and by the end of the
week seemed none the worse for his experience.
“I’m afraid you have a somber rival in your son,” Kitty said one
evening to her father.
“How’s that?” asked Mr. Carter, forcing himself out of his
preoccupation.
“He has quite a crush on Hazel—talks of her constantly.”
Her father laughed in a self-conscious manner. “Oh, he has, eh?”
“He wants me to invite her to supper again and let him sit up late.”
Mr. Carter laughed. “You must do that, Kitten. But for Hazel’s watchful
care Billy might not have recovered so quickly.”
“I’m sure of that.”
“And by the way, my dear, I’ve talked with Hazel about what you told me
the other night.”
“Oh, did you?”
“She told me about the chess playing—Lieutenant Cary hobnobbing with
Krome, Punaro and men from the galley.”
“When I saw him playing with Punaro I thought they must be two of a
kind. I was already suspicious of them both. But Krome seems a
good-natured sort. Somehow I hate to think he may be in on the dirty
work.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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