CHAPTER EIGHT   WHAT’S IN A TITLE?

When Kitty told Hazel about the shortage of girls at the USO on that stormy night her friend said, “Stop by for me next time you go to Canteen. My evenings are rather lonely. I’ll be glad to help entertain the boys.”

“I’ll have to get a card for you, but that won’t be any trouble,” said Kitty.

However, Hazel’s remark about her lonely evenings left Kitty somewhat at sea. Her father was away from home several evenings a week, and she had thought he was spending them with Hazel. Now she felt she had been mistaken.

Next time Kitty was on duty at the Snack Bar she went over to the hospital for Hazel, and together they walked the five blocks to the USO hall. As they walked along the main street in the twilight they caught glimpses of the docks, with their dimmed boat lights at each street intersection.

“I love living here, don’t you?” said Kitty.

“Under different circumstances it would be quite an interesting post.”

“Under different circumstances?” Kitty’s tone implied her puzzlement.

“I’m in rather an awkward spot, you know. My brother had a very unpleasant time here—was blamed for something of which he was innocent.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Naturally I still feel the cloud hanging over me. I’ll never be quite happy till my brother is cleared.”

“Is there anything I can do? I wish I could help.”

“I’m afraid there’s nothing anyone can do outside the service.”

Kitty wanted to ask for more details, but the tone of Hazel’s last remark suggested that the subject was closed. In fact she felt very much surprised that her friend had been as frank as she had about the matter.

At the USO hall they separated for a while, Hazel to help amuse the boys while Kitty went into the Canteen quarters. When she slipped off her coat and put on her apron, she went out to the bar to find Ned Miller waiting for her. He seemed as bright as a sunny day after a long rainy spell.

“Miss Kitty, you’ll never guess what’s happened!” he exclaimed.

“Your wife and baby aren’t flying to Palmetto Island already?”

“Oh, no, nothing so marvelous as that, but surprising enough.”

“Then spill the news, Ned, and don’t keep me in suspense,” she encouraged.

“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.

“I was too busy to come sooner, but I wanted to get over here in time to see you home. Something to tell you.”

“I brought Hazel with me. We’ll have to take her back to the hospital before we can talk.”

“Sure.”

“Glad you came,” she added after a moment. “You can go with me to hunt up Chief Krome. He promised me that shrimp creole recipe.”

“Yeah! Sure, we want it for that picnic tomorrow.”

“They say the only way you ever get a recipe out of Krome is to go after it. He looks too easygoing to let the mild matter of a promise like that weigh on his mind.”

“Sure is nice of you Canteen girls to go down on the beach and fix that supper for us tomorrow. Ned Miller’s looking forward to it, too. You sure lifted his countenance, Kit.”

Kitty flushed. “Oh, I guess I got as big a kick out of it as he did.” There was an awkward pause and she looked about for something to change the subject. Finally she nudged Brad’s arm and whispered, “Take a look over in the south corner at those chess players.”

Brad glanced at them and whistled softly. “The trail grows warmer, Kitty.”

“Find out anything about Punaro?”

“Plenty. But we’ll save that till later. But when you see two suspected ones hobnobbing it begins to look as though something is brewing.”

An hour before closing time Kitty saw the chess players leave their board and go out. They hadn’t patronized the Snack Bar all evening.

That was one night Kitty was glad when it was time to go home. She had had no opportunity for a private talk with Brad for some time, and she had much on her mind. At the hospital they left Hazel at her door and took the elevator down to the basement.

“Surely am glad you came along, Brad,” said Kitty. “I wouldn’t like to be hunting up Chief Krome at this hour of the night by myself.”

There was no one in sight when they got off the elevator at the basement floor. “I’ve never been down here before,” Kitty remarked, as she followed Brad toward the Chief Cook’s quarters.

“Quite a nifty arrangement,” Brad explained. “Extending out front this wing of the hospital is a platform running right down to a dock over the water. Supply boats come almost right up to the building. Saves an awful lot in transportation of fuel and food.”

Kitty felt no particular interest in what Brad said. She was eager to get the recipe from Krome and return to the street where she and Brad could talk without fear of being overheard. Brad knocked on Krome’s door several times, but got no answer.

“Must be out,” Kitty said, disappointed.

They were about to turn away when Ned Miller came running down the stairs. “Looking for Krome?” he asked, seeing them outside the Chief Cook’s door.

“He promised me that shrimp creole recipe, and they say I’ll have to run him down to get it,” Kitty explained.

“I’ll go ask him for it for you,” offered Ned, eager to be of service to Kitty. “I saw him up in the recreation room as I came through, playing chess with Lieutenant Cary.”

“Oh, you did!” exclaimed Kitty.

But Ned was already hurrying back toward the stairs. They were about to follow when Brad said, “Come, while we’re down here I’ll show you the dock.”

Not wanting to be rude enough to tell him it didn’t interest her in the least, Kitty followed Brad toward the double doors that stood wide open at the end of the cement passage. There was only a shaded light outside. Her first impression was a confused one of several barges huddled against the dock piled high with boxes, crates, kegs and all manner of freight.

Then suddenly she saw a man at one of the barges. Her pulse quickened when she noted it was filled with refuse. The man had his back to them, pushing something onto the barge. It seemed to be a large box, but Kitty had only a glimpse for the man threw a strip of old sail over it and turned sharply at the sound of their footsteps. As he came toward them there was indignation in his very stride.

“What do you want here?” he growled.

As he spoke and came nearer the glow from the hallway, Kitty recognized Punaro, who less than an hour ago had been playing chess in the USO hall with Lieutenant Cary.

“We’re looking for Krome,” said Brad with aggravating nonchalance.

“He’s not down here,” stated Punaro. “You’ll find him up in the recreation room playing chess with Dr. Cary.”

“Thanks. Thanks a lot,” Brad said, and Kitty wondered why his thanks was so profuse.

When they went down the hall they found Ned returning from above. “Chief said if I’d bring his recipe book he’d find the thing you want and let you copy it,” Ned explained. “He’s just about to checkmate Lieutenant Cary and can’t leave his game right now.”

When Ned went into Krome’s quarters Kitty whispered to Brad, “Did you notice anything queer out there?”

“Plenty.”

“Punaro throwing a strip of sail over a box on the barge?”

“You’d make a grand detective, Kitty!”

“And I noticed more, but we’d better wait till we get outside to talk.”

Lieutenant Cary sent them an unwelcome look when they went upstairs, but Krome was quite good-natured about the interruption. He handed Kitty his own pen and a bit of notepaper on which to write the recipe. He chuckled and advised her to spice it up sharply for the boys.

“What Do You Want Here?” Punaro Asked Them

When at last they were outside in the cool moonlight Kitty slipped her arm through Brad’s and whispered, “There’s something mighty queer going on.”

“You’re telling me!”

“I wouldn’t trust that Punaro one minute! I’ll bet you a hundred dollars he’s sneaking something out of the hospital on that barge.”

“What and where to, it now becomes our job to find out.”

“Did you notice anything queer about his knowing instantly where Krome was?”

“I’ll say. It looks to me as though Cary got Krome tied up in that chess game while Punaro does what he pleases in the galley.”

“That’s a wise deduction, Mr. Holmes, but Dr. Watson noticed something else.”

Brad laughed in spite of his uneasiness. “I’d call you the Sherlock Holmes and me Dr. Watson. You were the first to begin picking up clues.”

“Strange how so many things have come up to make me know something’s wrong. Even Ned Miller warned me the other day when I mentioned Punaro—that I mustn’t ever let him bring me home, that he’s not my kind.”

“Ned’s in a position to know, Kitty, right down there working with him. And say, this is what I wanted to tell you up at the Snack Bar.”

“Go ahead. I’ve been bustin’ to hear.”

“I noticed Punaro’s shoes the other day when he came in to empty our wastebasket. There’s a scorched streak across them, but he’s evidently tried to polish it away.”

“And you really think it could have been caused by a spark igniting spilled gasoline or kerosene?”

“It’s possible, yes. But doing work like his, it might have been spilled acid, too. I’m afraid the circumstantial evidence there is far too weak to blame him for the cannery fire.”

“Of course. But later developments seem to prove that my suspicions may not be entirely unfounded.”

“Say, you were going to tell me something else you noticed out there just now.”

“Do you realize he called Cary, doctor, not lieutenant?”

“You’re right—he did!”

“Everybody else round here calls him lieutenant—those who’ve only known him since he came into the service.”

“I’ll say your perception is very keen, Kitty. It seems proof that Cary and Punaro knew each other before they came into the service. I’ll try to find out where they both hail from.”

“Do, Brad, if you can. This thing is beginning to look very serious. We’ve got to find out what it’s all about.”