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.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Norma was up bright and early next morning. As she stepped out on the porch for a breath of air, her eyes were greeted by a scene of marvelous beauty. Back of a dark spot rising from the sea which must, she thought, be Black Knob, the sun was rising.
“What a picture!” She knew just how it should be taken.
Racing into the house she put her hand on the mantel at the spot where she had left her camera.
Well, after all, she might be mistaken. Perhaps she had taken it to her room. Rushing upstairs, she began a hurried search.
“What’s up?” Betty demanded. “House on fire?”
“No, a gorgeous picture to be taken and I’ve misplaced my camera.”
“Here. Take mine!” Betty took her camera from the shelf.
Without a word Norma grabbed the camera and raced down the stairs to take three exposures before the sun was too high.
“I can’t imagine what could have happened to my camera,” she exclaimed, after a thorough search. “I’m sure I left it on the mantel downstairs. I took two shots of the fishermen’s boats coming in yesterday, then put it on the mantel and forgot it.”
“Oh! it will show up.” Betty was a cheerful soul.
At breakfast that morning, Norma sat by Lieutenant Warren and told her all about Bess, Beth, their grandfather, and Black Knob.
“That seems an admirable spot for a spotter shed,” said Miss Warren.
“It must be,” Norma agreed. “Of course it has its watching post but it seems undermanned—a grandfather and two old ladies for the night and fishermen keeping an eye out during the day. Doesn’t sound very good.”
“No, it doesn’t. We may want to lend them a helping hand. I’ve asked for six more auxiliaries for just such emergencies.”
“I’m glad of that,” Norma said. “We may need them more than you think before a month has passed.”
“Why? What do you mean by that?” The Lieutenant gave her a sharp look.
“Just a hunch, I guess,” Norma evaded. She wasn’t going to tell of the photographer with bristly white hair, of the voices behind scenes at the studio, the black pigeons, or the missing camera until she had more to tell.