SPOTTERS IN THE NIGHT
“That’s spooky,” Norma whispered. “Your grandfather doesn’t by any
chance happen to be in Heaven?”
“Yes, he is.” Beth laughed. “His kind of Heaven. He’s over on Black
Knob.”
“Black Knob? What’s that?”
“It’s an island ten miles off shore. Grandfather calls it his retreat.
He’s a writer on technical subjects, and an inventor.”
“He has plenty of money,” put in Bess, “so he just writes and invents.”
“And by and by someone gives him money for an invention so he can
invent some more,” Beth finished.
“Sounds wonderful!” said Norma. “But what about this thing?” She
pointed to the square of light where that expressive hand was opening
and closing, pointing and writhing again.
Beth was writing down letters rapidly, so it was Bess who replied in a
whisper:
“It’s a great secret. Only Beth, grandfather, and I know about it.
Shall I tell her?” She turned to her sister. Beth nodded.
“Cross your heart and hope to die,” Bess whispered impressively. “You
won’t tell a soul?”
“Not a soul—cross my heart and hope to die.”
“Well then—it’s television,” Bess confided. “Only there’s no sound.
Words without sound. It’s a perfectly secret way of communication, as
long as no one knows about it.”
“But I don’t see—” The hand was still going through its weird motions.
“It’s very simple,” said Bess. “Grandfather has two moving picture
cameras trained on his hand over there on Black Knob.”
“I guessed that much.”
“The rest is deaf and dumb alphabet, that’s all. A is a clenched fist
with the thumb turned in, and C—”
“How stupid I am!” Norma exclaimed. “I should have guessed it at once!”
“Oh, no!” Bess laughed. “Strange things always stick us. We want a
weird explanation, when it is something just as simple as that.”
“It’s quite wonderful,” Norma exclaimed. “I shouldn’t wonder if
something tremendously important would come out of it.” She was not
wrong in this prediction.
“Black Knob is an important point,” said Bess. “It’s so far off shore.”
“It must be,” was the quick reply. “Particularly for enemy submarines.
I’m going to tell Lieutenant Warren about it.”
“But not about television,” Bess warned. “At least, not without
grandfather’s consent.”
“Not about television,” Norma agreed.
Once again the hand had vanished from the square of light. This time
Beth pushed the apparatus into a corner and threw a cloth over it.
“He reports once each hour until midnight,” she explained. “If anything
really startling comes up, he gives us a buzz on a short-wave radio and
we turn on television for a special report.”
“After midnight?” Norma asked.
“Two elderly ladies take over until morning. They use short wave
entirely. During the day fishermen who live there keep a sharp watch.”
“It’s not much of a setup for so important a spot,” Bess said. “One old
man, two women and some fishermen. But it’s all there is there in
winter.”
“It might be improved upon,” Norma agreed.
“Well,” said Bess, drawing on a heavy coat, “I’ll get out on the
listening platform. It’s all ears from now till morning.”
“Unless they show a light,” Norma suggested.
“No enemy would show a light,” was the reply.
As Bess left her comfortable place by the fire Norma noticed that
outside the wind was picking up and snow beginning to fall.
“Not going to be a nice night,” was her comment.
“Winter’s almost gone,” was Beth’s reply. “We’ve had some really bad
nights, I can tell you.”
“What’s the payoff?” Norma asked without thinking.
“This is our country!” Beth drew herself up proudly. “No enemy planes
have ever got past us—I mean all of us—not just Bess and me. And they
never will! There are hundreds of watchers all along the coast.”
“And if you hadn’t been here they would have tried?” Norma suggested.
“Absolutely!”
“It’s grand work! We’re going to help you all we can.”
“That’s not all there is to it.” Beth leaned forward. “We saved two
lives. Fighting men they were, too. They gave us the credit, just Bess,
grandfather, and me. See?” She held out a medal that read FOR VALIANT
SERVICE.
“That’s wonderful!” Norma exclaimed. “I hope I can do as much.”
“Oh! You will! And a lot more. You’re a WAC—you are really in the Army.
I wish I could be a WAC.” There was intense longing in the younger
girl’s voice.
“Perhaps they’ll lower the age limit.”
“Here’s hoping!”
“Want to tell me about this rescue?” Norma asked.
“Oh! Sure! It wasn’t much,” was the modest reply. “Just our good luck,
that’s all.
“It was grandfather who spotted the plane first, just before midnight.
He gave us the radio buzz, then started talking fast with his
hands—television, you know. This plane had just passed over Black Knob.
There was a fog. He heard it, that’s all. It was going north slowly. We
thought—”
Beth stopped short. Bess thrust her head in at the door.
“One single, going south fast, about five miles off shore,” she
announced. Instantly Beth was on the phone saving in a clearcut voice:
“One single going south, fast. About five miles off shore. Granite Head
speaking.”
She kept a head-set over one ear, but went on with her story.
“Bess reported that plane over Black Knob at once. The Army, Navy, and
Civil Air Patrol had no such plane out that they knew of.
“That made it exciting, I can tell you. Might have been an enemy plane
scouting. And there were too many lights burning in Portland that
night.”
“What happened?” Norma demanded eagerly.
“Grandfather kept hearing them and reporting for half an hour. Then a
fighter plane went out, but couldn’t find them in the fog.
“They came in quite close to Black Knob. Then the motor went off.
Grandfather was outside. He was sure they went into the sea—thought he
heard a splash. They—”
Bess broke off suddenly to press the head-set to her ear. She listened
intently for a moment, then murmured into her speaker:
“Okay.”
Stepping to the door she said to her sister:
“Just another Navy plane off its course. Pilot called for directions
and got them.”
“See? That’s the way it is.” she said to Norma.
“I see,” said Norma. “Disappointing?”
“Yes. Every time but one out of a hundred, or a thousand, I guess, and
then—”
“Tell the rest,” Norma urged.
“Oh, about those two fliers? That was exciting, I can tell you.
Grandfather gave us the word that the plane was down.
“Then he got the fishermen out of bed. Three boats went out.
Grandfather’s boat spotted them, just in time. Their plane sank ten
minutes later.
“They were Army fliers—a trainer and a student. Umm! That student was
handsome!”
“And he would have drowned if it hadn’t been for you spotters,” Norma
said.
“Absolutely.”
“That,” said Norma, “was wonderful!”
As she stepped out of the comfortable room into the night, Norma saw a
white-robed figure—Bess, covered with snow.
“Spotters,” she whispered as she went down the stairs. “Spotters in the
night.”
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