nd 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