always to have to make believe became monotonous。 Even 〃dry
shopping〃 along the Rue de la Paix when you pretend you can have
anything you see in any window； leaves one just as rich； but
unsatisfied。 So the advice of the war correspondent to seek out
German spies came to Jimmie like a day at the circus； like a week
at the Danbury Fair。 It not only was a call to arms； to protect
his flag and home； but a chance to play in earnest the game in
which he most delighted。 No longer need he pretend。 No longer
need he waste his energies in watching； unobserved； a greedy
rabbit rob a carrot field。 The game now was his fellow…man and
his enemy； not only his enemy； but the enemy of his country。
In his first effort Jimmie was not entirely successful。 The man
looked the part perfectly； he wore an auburn beard； disguising
spectacles； and he carried a suspicious knapsack。 But he turned
out to be a professor from the Museum of Natural History； who
wanted to dig for Indian arrow…heads。 And when Jimmie threatened
to arrest him； the indignant gentleman arrested Jimmie。 Jimmie
escaped only by leading the professor to a secret cave of his
own； though on some one else's property； where one not only could
dig for arrow…heads； but find them。 The professor was delighted；
but for Jimmie it was a great disappointment。 The week following
Jimmie was again disappointed。
On the bank of the Kensico Reservoir； he came upon a man who was
acting in a mysterious and suspicious manner。 He was making notes
in a book； and his runabout which he had concealed in a wood road
was stuffed with blue…prints。 It did not take Jimmie long to
guess his purpose。 He was planning to blow up the Kensico dam；
and cut off the water supply of New York City。 Seven millions of
people without water！ With out firing a shot； New York must
surrender！ At the thought Jimmie shuddered； and at the risk of
his life by clinging to the tail of a motor truck； he followed
the runabout into White Plains。 But there it developed the
mysterious stranger； so far from wishing to destroy the Kensico
dam； was the State Engineer who had built it； and； also； a large
part of the Panama Canal。 Nor in his third effort was Jimmie more
successful。 From the heights of Pound Ridge he discovered on a
hilltop below him a man working alone upon a basin of concrete。
The man was a German…American； and already on Jimmie's list of
〃suspects。〃 That for the use of the German artillery he was
preparing a concrete bed for a siege gun was only too evident。
But closer investigation proved that the concrete was only two
inches thick。 And the hyphenated one explained that the basin was
built over a spring； in the waters of which he planned to erect a
fountain and raise gold fish。 It was a bitter blow。 Jimmie became
discouraged。 Meeting Judge Van Vorst one day in the road he told
him his troubles。 The young judge proved unsympathetic。 〃My
advice to you； Jimmie；〃 he said； 〃is to go slow。 Accusing
everybody of espionage is a very serious matter。 If you call a
man a spy； it's sometimes hard for him to disprove it； and the
name sticks。 So； go slowvery slow。 Before you arrest any more
people； come to me first for a warrant。〃
So； the next time Jimmie proceeded with caution。
Besides being a farmer in a small way； Jimmie's father was a
handy man with tools。 He had no union card； but； in laying
shingles along a blue chalk line； few were as expert。 It was
August； there was no school； and Jimmie was carrying a
dinner…pail to where his father was at work on a new barn。 He
made a cross…cut through the woods； and came upon the young man
in the golf…cap。 The stranger nodded； and his eyes； which seemed
to be always laughing； smiled pleasantly。 But he was deeply
tanned； and； from the waist up； held himself like a soldier； so；
at once； Jimmie mistrusted him。 Early the next morning Jimmie met
him again。 It had not been raining； but the clothes of the young
man were damp。 Jimmie guessed that while the dew was still on the
leaves the young man had been forcing his way through underbrush。
The stranger must have remembered Jimmie； for he laughed and
exclaimed：
〃Ah； my friend with the dinner…pail！ It's luck you haven't got it
now； or I'd hold you up。 I'm starving！〃
Jimmie smiled in sympathy。 〃It's early to be hungry；〃 said
Jimmie； 〃when did you have your breakfast？〃
〃I didn't；〃 laughed the young man。 〃I went out to walk up an
appetite； and I lost myself。 But； I haven't lost my appetite。
Which is the shortest way back to Bedford？〃
〃The first road to your right；〃 said Jimmie。
〃Is it far？〃 asked the stranger anxiously。 That he was very
hungry was evident。
〃It's a half…hour's walk；〃 said Jimmie
〃If I live that long；〃 corrected the young man； and stepped out
briskly。
Jimmie knew that within a hundred yards a turn in the road would
shut him from sight。 So； he gave the stranger time to walk that
distance； and； then； diving into the wood that lined the road；
〃stalked〃 him。 From behind a tree he saw the stranger turn and
look back； and seeing no one in the road behind him； also leave
it and plunge into the woods。
He had not turned toward Bedford； he had turned to the left。 Like
a runner stealing bases； Jimmie slipped from tree to tree。 Ahead
of him he heard the stranger trampling upon dead twigs； moving
rapidly as one who knew his way。 At times through the branches
Jimmie could see the broad shoulders of the stranger； and again
could follow his progress only by the noise of the crackling
twigs。 When the noises ceased； Jimmie guessed the stranger had
reached the wood road； grass…grown and moss…covered； that led to
Middle Patent。 So； he ran at right angles until he also reached
it； and as now he was close to where it entered the main road； he
approached warily。 But； he was too late。 There was a sound like
the whir of a rising partridge； and ahead of him from where it
had been hidden； a gray touring…car leaped into the highway。 The
stranger was at the wheel。 Throwing behind it a cloud of dust；
the car raced toward Greenwich。 Jimmie had time to note only that
it bore a Connecticut State license； that in the wheel…ruts the
tires printed little V's； like arrow…heads。
For a week Jimmie saw nothing of the spy； but for many hot and
dusty miles he stalked arrow…heads。 They lured him north； they
lured him south； they were stamped in soft asphalt； in mud； dust；
and fresh…spread tarvia。 Wherever Jimmie walked； arrow…heads ran
before。 In his sleep as in his copy…book； he saw endless chains
of V's。 But not once could he catch up with the wheels that
printed them。 A week later； just at sunset as he passed below
Round Hill； he saw the stranger on top of it。 On the skyline； in
silhouette against the sinking sun； he was as conspicuous as a
flagstaff。 But to approach him was impossible。 For acres Round
Hill offered no other cover than stubble。 It was as bald as a
skull。 Until the stranger chose to descend； Jimmie must wait。 And
the stranger was in no haste。 The sun sank and from the west
Jimmie saw him turn his face east toward the Sound。 A storm was
gathering； drops of rain began to splash and as the sky grew
black the figure on the hilltop faded into the darkness。 And
then； at the very spot where Jimmie had last seen it； there
suddenly flared two tiny flashes of fire。 Jimmie leaped from
cover。 It was no longer to be endured。 The spy was signalling。
The time for caution had passed； now was the time to act。 Jimmie
raced to the top of the hill； and found it empty。 He plunged down
it； vaulted a stone wall； forced his way through a tangle of
saplings； and held his breath to listen。 Just beyond him； over a
jumble of rocks； a hidden stream was tripping and tumbling。
Joyfully； it laughed and gurgled。 Jimmie turned hot。 It sounded
as though from the darkness the spy mocked him。 Jimmie shook his
fist at the enshrouding darkness。 Above the tumult of the coming
storm and the tossing tree…tops； he raised his voice。
〃You wait！〃 he shouted。 〃I'll get you yet！ Next time； I'll bring
a gun。〃
Next time； was the next morning。 There had been a hawk hovering
over the chicken yard； and Jimmie used that fact to explain his
borrowing the family shotgun。 He loaded it with buckshot； and； in
the pocket of his shirt buttoned his license to 〃hunt； pursue and
kill； to take with traps or other devices。〃
He remembered that Judge Van Vorst had warned him； before he
arrested more spies； to come to him for a warrant。 But with an
impatient shake of the head Jimmie tossed the recollection from
him。 After what he had seen he could not possibly be again
mistaken。 He did not need a warrant。 What he had seen was his
warrantplus the shotgun。
As a 〃pathfinder〃 should； he planned to take up the trail where
he had lost it； but； before he reached Round Hill； he found a
warmer trail。 Before him； stamped clearly in the road still damp
from the rain of the night before； two lines of little
arrow…heads pointed the way。 They were so fresh that at each
twist in the road； lest the car should be just beyond him； Jimmie
slackened his steps。 After half a mile the scent grew hot。 The
tracks were deeper； the arrow…heads more clearly cut； and Jimmie
broke into a run。 T