no use fo' Yankees yet."

"You don't call yourself a Southerner, do you?" asked the boy curiously.

"What am I then?"

"You're German. At least, your folks were," Whistler declared with
conviction.

The woman scowled at him and said nothing more. When Whistler had
finished helping her he moved his chair back from the fireplace, for the
heat from the live coals was intense. He saw a scrap of torn paper upon
the earth floor, near his foot.

His suspicions had been aroused now and he covered the paper with his
foot until he could get a chance to pick it up without the old woman
observing him. Having secured it he moved still farther back to the
table. There was a smoky hanging-lamp over the board which gave him
light enough to see by. Secretly he examined the torn paper.

It seemed to be part of a letter, and was closely written on both sides
of the scrap. On one side was the beginning of the missive, and after a
minute Whistler realized that it was written in German script.

At the head of the letter was a line that not alone amazed, but startled
the boy. Coincidence often has a long arm, and in this case the adage
proved true. The letter was addressed to

"_Herr Franz Linder._"

CHAPTER XX

THE WITCH'S WARNING

Whistler had been assured when he attended the session in the sheriff's
office at home, before joining the crew of the _Kennebunk_, that the
enemy alien named Franz Linder, who was supposed to have blown up the
Elmvale dam, was an influential member of that band of spies that were
doing so much harm in the United States.

It was surprising to find this scrap of a letter addressed to the spy in
this island cabin off the coast of North Carolina. Yet it smacked of no
improbability.

Whistler had heard the spy tell the skipper of the oil carrier, the
_Sarah Coville_, that his work was done in that vicinity. Linder, or
Blake as he was known at Elmvale, had naturally got well away from the
neighborhood of the dam after it was blown up.

That he was on this island at the present time was not so likely; but
that he had been here, and in this cabin, was very possible. Perhaps had
the castaways from the wrecked yawl arrived a few hours before at the
cabin of Mag they might have seen the German spy.

The old woman who tried to make Whistler believe she possessed second
sight, or some gift quite as uncanny, was in league with or had some
knowledge of Franz Linder. The boy was confident on this point