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tracks were deeper； the arrow…heads more clearly cut； and Jimmie
broke into a run。 Then； the arrow…heads swung suddenly to the
right； and in a clearing at the edge of a wood； were lost。 But
the tires had pressed deep into the grass； and just inside the
wood； he found the car。 It was empty。 Jimmie was drawn two ways。
Should he seek the spy on the nearest hilltop； or； until the
owner returned； wait by the car。 Between lying in ambush and
action； Jimmie preferred action。 But； he did not climb the hill
nearest the car； he climbed the hill that overlooked that hill。
Flat on the ground； hidden in the golden…rod he lay motionless。
Before him； for fifteen miles stretched hills and tiny valleys。
Six miles away to his right rose the stone steeple； and the red
roofs of Greenwich。 Directly before him were no signs of
habitation； only green forests； green fields； gray stone walls；
and； where a road ran up…hill； a splash of white； that quivered
in the heat。 The storm of the night before had washed the air。
Each leaf stood by itself。 Nothing stirred； and in the glare of
the August sun every detail of the landscape was as distinct as
those in a colored photograph； and as still。
In his excitement the scout was trembling。
〃If he moves；〃 he sighed happily； 〃I've got him！〃
Opposite； across a little valley was the hill at the base of
which he had found the car。 The slope toward him was bare； but
the top was crowned with a thick wood； and along its crest； as
though establishing an ancient boundary； ran a stone wall；
moss…covered and wrapped in poison…ivy。 In places； the branches
of the trees； reaching out to the sun； overhung the wall and hid
it in black shadows。 Jimmie divided the hill into sectors。 He
began at the right； and slowly followed the wall。 With his eyes
he took it apart； stone by stone。 Had a chipmunk raised his head；
Jimmie would have seen him。 So； when from the stone wall； like
the reflection of the sun upon a window…pane； something flashed；
Jimmie knew he had found his spy。 A pair of binoculars had
betrayed him。 Jimmie now saw him clearly。 He sat on the ground at
the top of the hill opposite； in the deep shadow of an oak； his
back against the stone wall。 With the binoculars to his eyes he
had leaned too far forward； and upon the glass the sun had
flashed a warning。
Jimmie appreciated that his attack must be made from the rear。
Backward； like a crab he wriggled free of the golden…rod； and
hidden by the contour of the hill； raced down it and into the
woods on the hill opposite。 When he came to within twenty feet of
the oak beneath which he had seen the stranger； he stood erect；
and as though avoiding a live wire； stepped on tip…toe to the
wall。 The stranger still sat against it。 The binoculars hung from
a cord around his neck。 Across his knees was spread a map。 He was
marking it with a pencil； and as he worked； he hummed a tune。
Jimmie knelt； and resting the gun on the top of the wall； covered
him。
〃Throw up your hands！〃 he commanded。
The stranger did not start。 Except that he raised his eyes he
gave no sign that he had heard。 His eyes stared across the little
sun…filled valley。 They were half closed as though in study； as
though perplexed by some deep and intricate problem。 They
appeared to see beyond the sun…filled valley some place of
greater moment； some place far distant。
Then the eyes smiled； and slowly； as though his neck were stiff；
but still smiling； the stranger turned his head。 When he saw the
boy； his smile was swept away in waves of surprise； amazement；
and disbelief。 These were followed instantly by an expression of
the most acute alarm。 〃Don't point that thing at me！〃 shouted the
stranger。 〃Is it loaded？〃 With his cheek pressed to the stock and
his eye squinted down the length of the brown barrel； Jimmie
nodded。 The stranger flung up his open palms。 They accented his
expression of amazed incredulity。 He seemed to be exclaiming；
〃Can such things be？〃
〃Get up！〃 commanded Jimmie。
With alacrity the stranger rose。
〃Walk over there；〃 ordered the scout。 〃Walk backward。 Stop！ Take
off those field…glasses and throw them to me。〃 Without removing
his eyes from the gun the stranger lifted the binoculars from his
neck and tossed them to the stone wall。 〃See here！〃 he pleaded；
〃if you'll only point that damned blunderbuss the other way； you
can have the glasses； and my watch； and clothes； and all my
money； only don't〃
Jimmie flushed crimson。 〃You can't bribe me；〃 he growled。 At
least； he tried to growl； but because his voice was changing； or
because he was excited the growl ended in a high squeak。 With
mortification； Jimmie flushed a deeper crimson。 But the stranger
was not amused。 At Jimmie's words he seemed rather the more
amazed。
〃I'm not trying to bribe you；〃 he protested。 〃If you don't want
anything； why are you holding me up？〃
〃I'm not；〃 returned Jimmie； 〃I'm arresting you！〃
The stranger laughed with relief。 Again his eyes smiled。 〃Oh；〃 he
cried； 〃I see！ Have I been trespassing？〃
With a glance Jimmie measured the distance between himself and
the stranger。 Reassured； he lifted one leg after the other over
the wall。 〃If you try to rush me；〃 he warned； 〃I'll shoot you
full of buckshot。〃
The stranger took a hasty step BACKWARD。 〃Don't worry about
that；〃 he exclaimed。 〃I'll not rush you。 Why am I arrested？〃
Hugging the shotgun with his left arm； Jimmie stopped and lifted
the binoculars。 He gave them a swift glance； slung them over his
shoulder； and again clutched his weapon。 His expression was now
stern and menacing。
〃The name on them〃 he accused； 〃is 'Weiss； Berlin。' Is that your
name？〃 The stranger smiled； but corrected himself； and replied
gravely； 〃That's the name of the firm that makes them。〃
Jimmie exclaimed in triumph。 〃Hah！〃 he cried； 〃made in Germany！〃
The stranger shook his head。
〃I don't understand；〃 he said。 〃Where WOULD a Weiss glass be
made？〃 With polite insistence he repeated； 〃Would you mind
telling me why I am arrested； and who you might happen to be？〃
Jimmie did not answer。 Again he stooped and picked up the map；
and as he did so； for the first time the face of the stranger
showed that he was annoyed。 Jimmie was not at home with maps。
They told him nothing。 But the penciled notes on this one made
easy reading。 At his first glance he saw； 〃Correct range； 1；800
yards〃； 〃this stream not fordable〃； 〃slope of hill 15 degrees
inaccessible for artillery。〃 〃Wire entanglements here〃； 〃forage
for five squadrons。〃
Jimmie's eyes flashed。 He shoved the map inside his shirt； and
with the gun motioned toward the base of the hill。 〃Keep forty
feet ahead of me；〃 he commanded； 〃and walk to your car。〃 The
stranger did not seem to hear him。 He spoke with irritation。
〃I suppose；〃 he said； 〃I'll have to explain to you about that
map。〃
〃Not to me； you won't；〃 declared his captor。 〃You're going to
drive straight to Judge Van Vorst's； and explain to HIM！〃
The stranger tossed his arms even higher。 〃Thank God！〃 he
exclaimed gratefully。
With his prisoner Jimmie encountered no further trouble。 He made
a willing captive。 And if in covering the five miles to Judge Van
Vorst's he exceeded the speed limit； the fact that from the rear
seat Jimmie held the shotgun against the base of his skull was an
extenuating circumstance。
They arrived in the nick of time。 In his own car young Van Vorst
and a bag of golf clubs were just drawing away from the house。
Seeing the car climbing the steep driveway that for a half…mile
led from his lodge to his front door； and seeing Jimmie standing
in the tonneau brandishing a gun； the Judge hastily descended。
The sight of the spy hunter filled him with misgiving； but the
sight of him gave Jimmie sweet relief。 Arresting German spies for
a small boy is no easy task。 For Jimmie the strain was great。 And
now that he knew he had successfully delivered him into the hands
of the law； Jimmie's heart rose with happiness。 The added
presence of a butler of magnificent bearing and of an athletic
looking chauffeur increased his sense of security。 Their presence
seemed to afford a feeling of security to the prisoner also。 As
he brought the car to a halt； he breathed a sigh。 It was a sigh
of deep relief。
Jimmie fell from the tonneau。 In concealing his sense of triumph；
he was not entirety successful。
〃I got him！〃 he cried。 〃I didn't make no mistake about THIS one！〃
〃What one？〃 demanded Van Vorst。
Jimmie pointed dramatically at his prisoner。 With an anxious
expression the stranger was tenderly fingering the back of his
head。 He seemed to wish to assure himself that it was still
there。
〃THAT one！〃 cried Jimmie。 〃He's a German spy！〃
The patience of Judge Van Vorst fell from him。 In his exclamation
was indignation； anger； reproach。
〃Jimmie！〃 he cried。
Jimmie thrust into his hand the map。 It was his 〃Exhibit A。〃
〃Look what he's wrote；〃 commanded the scout。 〃It's all military
words。 And these are his glasses。 I took 'em off him。 They're
made in GERMANY！ I been stalking him for a week。 He's a spy！〃
When Jimmie thrust the map before his face； Van Vorst had glanced
at it。 Then he regarded it more closely。 As he raised his