tumbled on the ground, then jumped up laughing.

Sally made a quick count. Yes, all eight were up and moving. Then, having unfastened her parachute, she rushed over to Barbara to exclaim:

“Barbara! You were wonderful!”

Throwing her arms about her, Barbara burst into tears of joy.

When the shower had passed, she exclaimed, “Now I am going to be a parachute rigger always, for I know just how much it means!”

“Boy, oh, boy!” Sally exclaimed when at last she was alone with her instructor. “I hope I get a chance to make use of that experience. That certainly was something!”

“It’s been my experience,” he replied soberly, “that in this war, sooner or later, we find a place for every bit of practice we’ve ever had. Your time will come.”

Would it? Sally wondered a long, long wonder. She was still wondering when she got back to school. Secret radios, ships, airplanes, parachutes, all went round and round in her head. What was in store for her? In a day or two she would be whirled away to another school for further training.

“And after that, what?” she asked the elm that had once saved her from disaster. The elm whispered to the breeze, but she could not understand what the tree and the breezes were saying.

CHAPTER SEVEN SILENT STORM

And then, like autumn leaves caught in a miniature whirlwind, they were sent spinning away in all directions. There was one happy evening hour when Sally, Nancy, Barbara, and Danny had lunch together in the Purple Cow, just off the campus. Theirs was the hail-and-farewell of good fellows well met, of soldiers who might never meet again. And yet, behind all their jokes and laughter was a feeling of friendship and devotion to one another that in all the years could never die.

“We’ll be seeing you,” they shouted next morning.

“Oh, sure! We’ll be together again, sooner than you think!”

“Good-by!”

“Good-by!”

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