While sitting there she suddenly shivered, and realized her clothes were wet through. Noticing one of her father’s coats hanging on a rack in the corner, she put it on, and went to the big armchair near the window. She took off her wet shoes and socks and tucked her feet under her woollen skirt until they were warm. The chair faced the window and as she sat there she recalled that her father had pointed out the location of Mangrove Island from that very window. How long ago it seemed! She wondered if Punaro, or whoever had shot at them, was still out there. Wind shook the window as it came howling in from the sea. The rain had stopped, however, and Kitty wondered if she could see anything across the marshes at night. She padded across the office on bare feet and switched off the light. While her eyes became accustomed to the darkness she sat on the window ledge peering out, wondering if the Nazi spies would dare come ashore in such a storm to pick up their loot. Would anyone be so foolhardy? The night was impenetrably black under lowering clouds. She could see nothing except the glow at the Marine Base to the east, and a few house lights in the settlement around the hospital. Then anxiety for Brad swept over her again. There was no use trying to think of anything else. Unhappily she sank back into the leather chair. She pulled her father’s coat closer about her, sat on her feet again and was soon comfortably warm. The wind came in from the sea like giant breakers rolling up a beach. It crashed against the big building, then there would be a momentary lull before the next gust came. To Kitty’s alarm, now that she paused to listen, each blast seemed worse than the one that had just struck. As soon as she heard from Brad they would go back to the cottage for Billy and Jane. She had been through too many storms on the Gulf coast to feel safe in a small house on a night like this. Under the circumstances it didn’t seem possible she could have dozed, but Kitty came to herself with a start at the sound of a key in the door. Instantly she was on the alert. Her father had given her his key. If it were he, she thought, he would have rapped and called to her to let him in. Cautiously she crouched deeper in the leather chair. As the door swung inward noiselessly she saw by the light from the hall a tall familiar form step into the room. He closed the door softly, then switching on a flash he moved quickly toward the desk. As the flashlight circled about the desk top for a moment it tilted so that reflected illumination struck the sneak’s face. Her surmise had been correct; it was Lieutenant Cary. In the dark corner the terrified girl watched breathlessly. Her eyes were just above the chair back, as Cary examined the order blanks in the large basket on the desk. Apparently finding what he wanted, he took up the sheaf of papers and buttoned them under his coat.