THE SPY
The following morning, immediately after breakfast, the three boys met
and set off for Water Street. At the scene of the fire, Jack pointed
out the approximate spot where the man had sat and wept. Searching for
footprints, they found many, most of them indistinct and smudged. They
continued their search for other possible clues but found none. In the
midst of their searchings, however, Paul looking up thought he saw a
flitting shadow duck behind a fence across the street. Making believe
that he saw nothing, he bent over and continued his investigations;
however, he had his eyes glued to the spot. And sure enough, he saw a
head protrude. He was amazed. Was it possible that someone was spying
on them? Was it possible that the person Jack had followed the evening
before had now turned around and was following them?
He called the two boys over. Pretending that he was explaining to
them the outline of a footprint, he told them in a few words, of his
discovery. “Don’t look now,” he warned his friends; “and don’t both
look at the same time.”
Ken joked, saying, “I hope this thing hasn’t got you so that you are
beginning to see things.”
“Don’t be funny,” remarked Paul seriously. “Suppose you fellows move
off now. Keep an eye on the spot I pointed out to you and don’t give
yourselves away.”
The boys separated and pretended to be absorbed in their
investigations. They kept this up for about five minutes and then Paul
called them and they walked away. “Well?” he asked anxiously.
Jack nodded. “You are right,” he whispered. “I also saw the head
protruding from behind the fence watching us.”
“What about you, Ken? Did you see anything?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said, “but I am not as eagle-eyed as
you two. I saw nothing suspicious.”
“But I saw him watching us several times,” insisted Paul.
“I saw him only once,” added Jack.
“Well, you two may be right and I wrong,” commented the third companion.
“Who do you think it could be?” asked Jack. “And what do you think his
purpose is?”
“How should I know?”
“Do you think it is that man I followed last night?”
Paul hesitated for a moment then shook his head. “No, and I will tell
you why. The person you followed last night was tall and gaunt. This
individual appeared to me to be about average height and robust. I
could tell that from the shadow.”
“Shall I turn around and see if we are being followed?” asked Ken.
“No, don’t do that,” warned Paul. “He might catch on that we know we
are being followed. I have a better plan.”
“What?”
“When we get to Main Street, you, Ken, will turn right, wave to us,
make believe as though you are saying goodbye. Jack and I will turn
left and pretend that we are going home. But instead of actually
walking off, Ken, you will dash into a doorway and watch to see if
anyone is following us.”
“And if there is?” asked Ken.
“Then you will follow him, naturally,” was Paul’s answer.
“And if there is not?”
“Then you will take a roundabout route and meet us in my house in about
half an hour.”
“All right. I’ll do that.”
At Main Street, the group parted, one boy walking off in one direction,
while the other two headed in the opposite direction. Ken, just as soon
as he parted from his companions, walked to the second store from the
corner, a haberdashery, and stared at the window display. Actually,
however, his eyes were roaming elsewhere and he was carefully watching
the corner. Some people came out of Water Street, but by the look on
their faces, by their general appearance and by the fact that they
seemed to know exactly which way their direction lay, Ken knew that it
was not any one of them. Suddenly he caught his breath. A robust man of
medium height emerged from the street and paused at the corner. He wore
a light jacket and a Panama hat, the brim pulled down over his forehead.
After standing hesitantly on the corner, he turned left, seemingly bent
on following Paul and Jack. Ken crossed the street and followed. The
chase continued for several blocks, the man increasing his pace and Ken
doing likewise. The two boys were just ahead, crossing Chestnut Street.
As the man came to the corner, he turned. Ken stopped at a corner
store and looked at the window display. He watched the man walk to the
middle of the block and then turn into the yard of a private house. Ken
scratched his head and wondered.
The two boys were awaiting him. As Ken came up the walk to the porch,
Paul asked, “Well?”
Ken nodded meaningfully and the two boys were re-assured of their
suspicions. Joining his companions, he muttered, “This man hunt is
getting me. I’m afraid that before it is all over I am going to go
crazy.”
“Why? What’s the matter?” inquired Jack.
“Do you know who was following us?” Ken put the question very gravely
and looked from one boy to the other.
“Who?”
“Captain Bob.”
The announcement came as a shock, almost overwhelming them. Each boy
searched the face of the other for some meaning or understanding. But
all of them were just as puzzled. Paul repeated the name, “Captain Bob!
But why should he follow us?”
Ken shrugged his shoulders. “Are you sure it was he?” questioned Jack,
his demeanor grave and serious.
“I am absolutely positive. After all, I know the man. It’s true I
didn’t see his face—”
Paul jumped. “You didn’t see his face!” he exclaimed. “Then how do you
know it was he? You might be mistaken.”
Ken shrugged his shoulders. “Very possible,” he said, “but I am pretty
sure I am not mistaken. To begin with, I know the man and I can
recognize him without seeing his face. And secondly, I watched him
walk down Chestnut Street and enter a house at about the middle of the
street. That is where he lives, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but are you sure he walked into his own house—that is, Captain
Bob’s house?” demanded Paul.
“Well, no, I didn’t follow him all the way to his home; I watched from
the corner. But just the same I am pretty sure that it was Captain Bob.”
There was silence. The boys could not understand why the Captain should
follow them. “Well, I’ll be!” exclaimed Jack. “This thing is getting
beyond me and I am losing my patience.”
“Now don’t get excited,” cautioned Paul. “And keep quiet for a couple
of minutes. I am trying to think of something.”
“Think of what?” asked Ken.
“Of what he said to us when we were over to see him,” was the answer.
“What about it?”
Paul leaned over toward his two companions. “Now look, fellows,” he
began. “There is one particular thing he told us that comes back to me
now very distinctly. You remember how just as we were leaving, he said
to us, ‘Don’t you go around talking about a pyromaniac; it may get you
into trouble.’ Remember him saying that?”
Jack nodded. “Yes, I remember.”
“Same here,” added Ken, “now that you call our attention to it. But
what about it? He meant it for our own good.”
“Of course,” said Paul, “I am not doubting his sincerity. But, Captain
Bob is much shrewder than we give him credit for, that’s the point.”
“How do you mean?” inquired Jack.
“We came over to talk over with him the fire, didn’t we?” continued
Paul. “Well, remember that he didn’t seem to have a very definite
opinion though he did feel that there was something odd about the cause
or origin of the fire.”
“Well, what’s your point?” demanded Ken, his curiosity aroused.
“Only this,” said Paul, “that since we told him of our own doubts
about the fire and that since we told him we suspected a pyromaniac,
he immediately came to the conclusion that we knew more than we were
telling him. And in order to find out what we may know about the fire,
he is following us.”
“Sounds logical to me,” muttered Jack.
Ken shook his head. “It may sound logical,” he said, “but somehow I am
not convinced. How should he know we were going out to Water Street
this morning? And he would have to watch the house of any one of us
three all morning to follow us. And why should he pick this morning to
follow us?”
Paul smiled at his friend’s naive questions. “To begin with,” he said,
“how do we know he has not been following us since that night we spoke
to him? But I am under the impression that his following us is just an
accident.”
“An accident!” echoed Jack. “Explain yourself.”
“I will if you don’t interrupt. My impression is that he was coming to
Water Street this morning also to search for some clues to the fire.
But when he saw us there, he naturally watched us to see what we were
up to and then followed us.”
Ken shook his head in a gesture of disbelief. Jake, on the other hand
mused quietly, trying to untangle the whole situation, but unable to
find a starting point. Finally he asked, “Do you think he will continue
to follow us, Paul?”
“Can’t tell. He may and he may not.”
After a short time of silence, Jack rose and suggested, “Well, let’s go
home for lunch.”
“That’s a bully idea,” cried Ken. “I didn’t realize how hungry I am.”
“All right, I’ll see you boys later,” said Paul.
That evening, immediately after supper, Paul went across the street to
call for Ken. As the two boys walked down the street, Paul whispered,
“We are being followed.”
Ken gasped. “Captain Bob!” he exclaimed in a hushed tone of voice.
“Don’t know. But for the last half hour I noticed that someone was
hovering about the house. And as we came out and walked away, I noticed
a form slink out of the shadows and follow us.”
“What do you think we ought to do?”
“I have an idea.” And he whispered some instructions to his friend.
Ken nodded. “And then what?” he asked.
“Leave the rest to me.”
When the two boys arrived in front of Jack’s home, Paul spoke up rather
loudly, “I guess I’ll walk down the block and call Nuthin’. I’ll be
back in about five minutes.”
“All right,” answered Ken just as loudly. “Jack and I will wait for
you.”
Ken entered the yard while Paul walked off straight ahead. Turning in
at the end of the street, he set off at a run around the block.
Returning to the same street at the other end, he hovered close to the
wall of a building and looked everywhere to detect the hiding place of
the spy. Suddenly he caught his breath. He detected a slight movement
behind a fence at the other side of the street, several houses below.
He crossed to the other side and walked ahead. Sure enough, a man
stepped out and came toward him. As they met, Paul greeted, “Hello,
Captain Bob.”
The man grunted and was going to pass on, but Paul instantly got into
his way. The man stopped, “Huh?” he muttered. “Did you speak to me?”
“I said hello, Captain Bob.”
“Hello yourself. Now let me see, your face seems to be familiar, but I
can’t seem to remember your name.”
“Paul Morrison.”
“Oh, yes, yes. You are the boy who dashed into the burning house and—”
Paul interrupted. “Yes, that’s right; you know me.” What a poor
actor the man was, Paul thought. He certainly couldn’t get away with
pretending that he didn’t know him. His heart pounded and perspiration
gathered on his brow. He was debating with himself what his approach
should be. Would it be best merely to imply that Captain Bob’s spying
was a known fact to them or should he put it frankly to the old man
and see what he would say. Paul steeled himself. Very suddenly, trying
to take the man off his guard, he said, “Captain Bob, I am very much
surprised that you should be following us.”
The old man straightened up. “What was that you said? Following you?
What for? Why should I be following you, tell me that.”
“That is something you should tell me,” he replied respectfully. “But
you spied on us this morning on Water Street and then followed us as
far as Chestnut Street. And just now you were following us again.”
It was really too dark to tell, but Paul felt that the old man had
turned red and became confused. “My dear boy,” he mumbled angrily, “You
don’t know what you are talking about.”
“You shouldn’t say that, Captain Bob. If I wasn’t positive, I wouldn’t
accost you like this.”
After a moment of tense silence, the captain laughed. “Well, my boy,”
he said, “you are right, but I promise not to do it any more.”
“Thank you. But if you don’t mind, I wish you would tell me why you are
following us.”
Captain Bob replied gravely, “You see, my boy, there have been too
many fires in this town lately. And when you and your friends came
and talked to me about the fire the other day, I became a little
suspicious. I tried to,—er,—get as much information out of you as I
could, but somehow I felt that you were not telling me everything. So I
thought I would check up on you.”
A feeling of relief swept over Paul. He wanted to jump into the air
and shout for joy. Even though he was a modest boy, he had to pat
himself on the back; thus far, all his suspicions and deductions had
been correct. He would certainly make a good detective. The captain
was waiting for him to say something and he commented, “But we really
don’t know any more than we told you, Captain Bob. If there is anything
the boys and I can do to help you, such as help check up on your
suspicions—that is if you have any—we would be glad to do so.”
The old man chuckled. “You are a smart one, my boy. I know that you
have something up your sleeve. But never mind.”
Paul felt his face going red. He must not give anything away, he
thought. Out loud, he said, “But really, Captain, we don’t. We don’t
know as much as you do, if as much.”
“Well, never mind. And,—er,—forget about my following you. I meant no
harm.”
“I’m sure of that,” replied the boy. “And it is perfectly all right.”
“Good night, my boy.”
“Good night, Captain Bob.”
Paul watched the man disappear around the corner. And just as he
started to cross the street, two figures darted out toward him, “Well?”
cried Ken.
Paul put a finger to his lips. “Sh!” he cautioned.
The boys retreated to Jack’s garage where Paul told his companions the
story. Just as soon as the narrative was completed, Ken cried, “The sly
old fox! You know, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he continues to
spy on us.”
“That is just what I was going to say,” agreed Paul. “He is a very
shrewd man and I am positive that he suspects somehow.”
“You don’t mean to say that he suspects us of setting fire to that
house?” inquired Jack seriously.
“No, not setting fire to the house,” answered Paul smiling. “That is
ridiculous and we must give him more credit than that. My impression is
that he suspects us of knowing something about it which we are holding
back from him. And that happens to be true.”
“Providing, of course, that our suspicions are correct,” argued Ken,
still a bit doubtful.
“Well, of course, under those conditions.”
“What do you think our next move should be?” questioned Jack.
“Let’s go to the movies,” suggested Ken.
“Oh, no!” exclaimed Jack.
“Why not?” reasoned Paul. “Captain Bob won’t follow us tonight any
more—”
“Which makes it safe for us to go to the movies,” joked Ken.
The boys laughed. “Seriously, though,” said Paul, “there is nothing
else for us to do tonight. That man was abroad last night, and it is
reasonable to assume that he won’t do any more prowling around tonight.”
“I agree with that wholeheartedly,” said Ken. “Let’s go to the movies.”