the red cross girl(红十字姑娘)-第45节
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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：
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〃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；
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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。
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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。 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
