whispered. “In a woman’s camp! I’m getting a spy complex—seeing ghosts under the bed! What’s the matter with me?”

That evening, not wishing to retire at the “lights out” signal, she sought out the day room that is used at night, and found it.

It was a comfortable place, that day room. Half underground, it was not subject to draft. A large round stove gave off a genial glow and plenty of heat. A large cushioned lounging chair awaited her.

Only one other girl was in the room. “Lena, the one who whispers in the night,” Norma thought. “Guess she’s asleep.”

Lena was not asleep, for as Norma sank into her chair, she opened one eye and drawled:

“Had a good day, didn’t you?”

“Just fine!” was the smiling reply.

“Hobnobbing with the brass hats.” Was there a suggestion of a sneer on Lena’s face?

If it was there Norma chose to ignore it. “There don’t seem to be any brass hats around this place,” she replied, good-naturedly.

“Oh! Aren’t there?” the girl exclaimed. “You just wait and—” At that the girl caught herself. “Well,” she finished lamely, “I’ll admit I’ve been treated fine.”

“Tomorrow we get measured for our uniforms,” she added.

“Your uniform should need very little fitting.” Norma could not help admiring the girl’s look of perfect fitness and form as she stood up.

“I didn’t get it sitting ’round,” Lena laughed. “I’m going out for some air and a look at the moon. You’re rather a perfect thirty-six yourself,” she said over her shoulder as she marched toward the door.

Norma wondered in a vague sort of way how Lena had got her training. She knew about her own. It hadn’t been easy.

After a time she began wondering about the moon. Seeing it shine over the stables, the barracks and mess halls would be a pleasant experience. She wasn’t dressed for the outdoors, so she stepped to the window and looked up. She did not see the moon. Instead, her eyes fell upon two shadowy figures. One 

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