mpunction at scrutinizing these fine, American
fellows as they came down with their kits--hearty, boisterous,
open-hearted. He felt that it was unworthy of him to suspect any of this
laughing, bantering army, of crime--and such a crime! Treason! In the
hope of catching one he must scrutinize them all, and in his generous
heart it seemed to put a stigma on them all. He hoped he wouldn't see
anyone who looked like Major von Piffinhoeffer. Then he hoped he would.
Then he wondered if he would dare to look at him after---- And suppose
he should be mistaken. He did not like this sort of work at all now that
he was face to face with it. He would rather be off with _Uncle Sam_,
riding along the French roads, with the French children calling to him.
For the first time in his life he was nervous and afraid--not of being
caught but of catching someone; of the danger of suspecting and being
mistaken.

Mr. Conne, who never missed anything, noticed his perturbation and
patted him on the shoulder saying,

"All kinds of work have to be done, Tommy."

Tom tried to smile back at him.

Down the long gangplank they came, one after another, pushing each
other, tripping each other--joking, laughing. Among them came a young
private, wearing glasses, who was singing,

"Good-bye, Broadway. Hello, France!"

He was startled out of his careless merriment by a tap on the shoulder
from Mr. Conne, and almost before Tom realized what had happened, he was
standing blinking at one of the other Secret Service men who was handing
him back his glasses.

"All right, my boy," said Mr. Conne pleasantly, which seemed to wipe out
any indignity the young man might have felt.

Tom looked up the gangplank as they surged down, holding the rail to
steady them on the steep incline. Nobody seemed to have noticed what had
happened.

"Keep your mind on _your_ part, Tommy," said Mr. Conne warningly.

Tom saw that of all those in sight only one wore glasses--a black-haired
youth who kept his hands on the shoulders of the man before him. Tom
made up his mind that he, in any event, would not detain this fellow on
the ground of anything in his appearance, nor any of the others now in
sight. He was drawn aside by Mr. Conne, however, and became the object
of attention of the other Secret Service men.

Tom kept his eyes riveted upon the gangplank. One, two, more, wearing
glasses, came in view, were stopped, examined, and passed on. After that
perhaps a hundred pas