stirring up the
people."

"Look, my friend," declared the scribe. "You know as well as I do that
these common folk will not follow anyone who goes too far for them. From
what you have told me, we ought not to have much trouble showing these
simple Galileans that he is not a loyal Jew at all."

Symeon laughed bitterly. "Every day he breaks the tradition a hundred
times!" A frown came over his face. "The trouble is--the people like
it!"

"That may be partly true," admitted the scribe. "But I believe these
country people are still real Jews at heart. They may be crude and
uneducated, but they will never follow anyone who is trying to destroy
the Law and break down our religion. The Nazarene can break a regulation
here and there, and they like it--yes! But let him say anything against
Moses, or Abraham, or the great Rabbis--they will desert him by the
hundreds!"

"If that happened, Herod would throw the whole band of them in prison
without delay," replied Symeon enthusiastically. "I believe you have
struck on the way to stop this false Rabbi!"

The scribe lowered his voice. "When do you think we could find him with
some of his followers?"

"He is always at the lake in the morning," replied Symeon.

About ten o'clock the next day, the men stepped into the sunlit street
in front of Symeon's home. Over their shoulders each wore a short cape,
beautifully decorated with four blue tassels, one at each corner. Many
Jews wore this cape, but only the Pharisees added extra long blue
tassels.

They descended the cobblestone street from the high part of Capernaum
where Symeon lived and went toward the lake below. People bowed and
smiled, but the two men paid no attention. They were used to having
people make way for them. They strode into the crowded market place,
already hot under the rays of the morning sun. The hoofs of many animals
had raised a cloud of dust. Everywhere farmers and fishermen were
shouting, trying to catch the ear of persons who came to buy. Only the
donkeys, laboring under huge baskets of food, refused to budge for the
officials.

After a short walk through the narrow streets of Capernaum, Symeon
caught sight of the lake, blue and cool, dancing in the sunlight. He
pointed ahead of them. "The Nazarene is usually on the shore a little
way beyond those fishing boats." They were approaching a group of
fishermen who had drawn up their boats and spread nets on the beach.

"We must show these people that he