do," said Tom, graciously. "Well, there's nothing very
suspicious in that, though. I might wish for some _wienerwurst_, but
that wouldn't make me a German spy."

"No. But take one other thing and you'll have to admit that there is
some ground for my belief."

"What's the other thing, old top?" asked Tom, in imitation of some
Englishmen.

"He was making drawings of the railroad line," asserted Jack.

"How do you know?"

"I saw him. He pretended to be looking at the _carte de jour_, and I
caught a glimpse of a sheet of paper on which he was making certain
marks. I'm sure he was sketching out something about the railroad, for
use, maybe, in a future air raid."

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Tom. "As a matter of fact, I don't doubt that the
German secret agents know every foot of ground in and about Paris. They
must have maps of this railroad the same as the French have of some of
Germany's, only you've got to hand it to the Huns! They certainly went
into this thing well prepared the more discredit to us, in a way. But
are you sure of what you say, Jack?" he added, after a moment's thought.

"Positive! I'm sure that man is a German spy, masking as a Hollander or
possibly a Swiss. He's sighing for some of his country's good
cooking--though that's one of the few good things about it--and he's
making some sort of a map."

Tom thought over the matter a moment. The man did not appear to notice
the two chums.

"I'll tell you what we can do," Tom said. "We'll soon be in at the Gare
de l'Est, and we can tip off some of the officers around there. They can
follow this fellow, if they think it's worth while."

"Well, I think it's worth while," said Jack. "If that fellow isn't a spy
I'm a Dutchman!"

As Jack spoke the man looked up and full at the two lads, almost as if
he had heard the words.

CHAPTER V

THE BOMBARDMENT OF PARIS

"There, Jack! what did I tell you? I win! You lose, and it's me for a
fine dinner at your expense! You lose! Do you hear?"

Tom Raymond, with a hearty laugh, clapped his chum on the shoulder, and
seemed mirthfully excited over something. As for Jack Parmly he looked
first at his chuckling comrade and then at the man he suspected of being
a German spy. The latter, who had glanced keenly at the boys, with
something akin to anger on his face, now was plainly puzzled.

"Do you understand?" demanded Tom in a loud voice, which attracted the
attention of many in the car. But a look at the two, s