The Quigg twins, Lee and Lauralee, had been children when he went away… now they were seniors in high school and most of the town gossip revolved around the twins. Parents dead and being raised by their grandmother, a fool if there ever was one. Set out to make Lauralee a southern belle who would have done credit to the Civil War days-innocent, ladylike, sheltered-and naturally the girl had rebelled and turned out just the opposite.

Wild! Smoking at thirteen, using words nobody could figure out where she'd learned, and from the age of about fourteen on, putting out to anything in pants. Lee, the boy, wasn't half as bad as his sister but they were both hellions. They were both spoiled rotten and when they turned sixteen that spring, Grandma had to rack her brains to come up with presents they didn't already have. She bought Lee a convertible and promised Lauralee a trip to Europe. But the girl didn't want to go to Europe, especially since she had to wait until graduation and then go along with Grandma. When her twin got a car, Lauralee was furious.

Somewhere she picked up the basics of driving and was soon sneaking out in Lee's new car whenever she got the chance.

That Saturday night, John Blodgett had just come out of the theater and was standing at the curb. Quiggville's only traffic light turned red and he had started across the street when there was a squeal of brakes and a yellow fender dipped to a stop only inches from him. He started to swear, looked up, and the words died…

"Hi, John," Lauralee said. "I'm sorry if I scared you," she giggled.

"It'd be awful to go through the war and then get killed right here on the square, wouldn't it?" She was staring at him with undisguised admiration… he was wearing his tropical-weight uniform and the pocket was crowded with his battle ribbons. The two of them were suddenly a pair of animals, sniffing at the warm flower-perfumed night air in search of excitement. "Can I give you a ride someplace?" her little red lips parted expectantly.