Since she was the only volunteer in her class, she had been given a dance at the Nurse’s Home. How could anyone stay behind, she wondered, when the fighting men needed so many nurses?

Drowsiness was creeping over her when she caught the low tones of two men behind her. The fact that they were speaking in a foreign tongue pricked her to alertness. She leaned closer to the window and concentrated. They were talking almost in whispers, but she heard the gutteral syllables of several German words. She had studied a little German in her high school days in order to sing some selections from the Wagnerian operas. Now she caught the words, ute Abend and acht Kusches.

“Tonight ... eight cars,” she translated.

The Pullman conductor came down the aisle, and the men fell silent. If they hadn’t become so abruptly silent at his approach, Nancy might have thought little of the whispered conversation. Though she tried to dismiss her suspicions, attributing her sensitiveness to the fact that she had just entered the service, she could not forget the two men speaking German fluently who sat behind her.

After an interval Nancy decided to take a look at the pair. She started down the aisle under pretense of getting a drink of water. The man nearest the aisle had the broad face and blond complexion of a typical German, though he wore the uniform of an American soldier. The other was in civilian clothes, and wore a small mustache. All Nancy could glean in her hasty inspection was that he had a lean countenance, dark coloring, and wore dark-rimmed glasses. On her return she noticed that the blond had a corporal’s stripes on his sleeve.

If he was a spy, surely the army would have detected it before making him a corporal, she thought, and promptly tried to dismiss her suspicions. Not until eleven o’clock that night when she was hurrying with the crowd to go aboard the west-bound train, did she again think of those words spoken in German behind her. Her Pullman was at the end of a very long train. Soldiers were filing into the front coaches. She counted eight cars ahead of hers.

Suddenly she recalled the words she had heard behind her at the beginning of her journey, acht Kusches. And here they were, eight coaches of service men. Again she thought of their words, ute Abend. Tonight! Could there possibly be any connection between those words and this troop train?

Nancy followed the redcap to her Pullman seat with a feeling of uneasiness. She knew 

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