“Come on down, sister. I’ll catch you.”

“Good grief!” she thought. “It’s a man.” And then the branch broke.

She landed rather solidly in a pair of strong arms. Then her feet hit the ground. Also the moon came out.

“What were you doing up there?” The man held her, as if she were a sack of wheat that might fall over.

The moonlight was on his face. He was young and wore a heavy blue coat. His cap had been knocked off.

“That,” she replied slowly, “is a military secret. But the way I came down, it seems, is common knowledge.” She did not try to escape.

“Rather uncommon knowledge, I’d say,” he drawled. “You might have broken your neck.”

“Yes, or been caught.”

“You were that,” he chuckled. “And you’re not a bad catch, at that. This is a rather lonesome college for some folks. Tell me who you are and I’ll let you go.

“I will anyway,” he said dropping his hands.

“I’m Sally Scott and I’m a WAVE!” she confessed.

“A WAVE! Then we belong to the same outfit. I’m a flying sailor. Shake!” He put out a hand for a good handclasp.

“Oh! A flying sailor!” she exclaimed. “Then you could teach me to receive in code.”

“Certainly I could and will, in my spare time.”

“We have an hour after supper.”

“Suits me. But, say, now that I have you, how about a coke and a chat somewhere?”

She did not reply at once. “We—we have to be careful. Mind taking my pal along?”

“Not a bit.”

“Then it’s a go. I—Oh, boy! Nancy will think I’m dead, or something! Wait. I’ll be back.”

“I’ll wait.”

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