them. One cablegram of three
hundred words, sent by an American correspondent, after it had been
blue-pencilled by the Greek censors in Salonika and Athens, and by the
four allied censors, arrived at his London office consisting entirely
of "ands" and "thes." So, if not from their censors, at least from the
correspondents, the Allies were protected. But against the really
serious danger of spies they were helpless. In New York the water-fronts
are guarded. Unless he is known, no one can set foot upon a wharf. Night
and day, against spies and German military attaches bearing explosive
bombs, steamers loading munitions are surrounded by police, watchmen,
and detectives. But in Salonika the wharfs were as free to any one as a
park bench, and the quay supplied every spy, German, Bulgarian, Turk or
Austrian, with an uninterrupted view. To suppose spies did not avail
themselves of this opportunity is to insult their intelligence.
They swarmed. In solid formation spies lined the quay. For every
landing-party of bluejackets they formed a committee of welcome. Of
every man, gun, horse, and box of ammunition that came ashore they kept
tally. On one side of the wharf stood "P. N. T. O.," principal naval
transport officer, in gold braid, ribbons, and armlet, keeping an eye on
every box of shell, gun-carriage, and caisson that was swung from a
transport, and twenty feet from him, and keeping count with him, would
be two dozen spies. And, to make it worse, the P. N. T. O. knew they
were spies. The cold was intense and wood so scarce that to obtain it
men used to row out two miles and collect the boxes thrown overboard
from the transports and battleships. Half of these men had but the
slightest interest in kindling-wood; they were learning the position of
each battleship, counting her guns, noting their caliber, counting the
men crowding the rails of the transports, reading the insignia on their
shoulder-straps, and, as commands and orders were wigwagged from ship
to ship, writing them down. Other spies took the trouble to disguise
themselves in rags and turbans, and, mixing with the Tommies, sold them
sweetmeats, fruit, and cigarettes. The spy told the Tommy he was his
ally, a Serbian refugee; and Tommy, or the _poilu_, to whom Bulgarians,
Turks, and Serbians all look alike, received him as a comrade.

[Illustration: _From a photograph, copyright by American Press
Association._

"The quay supplied every spy--German, Bulgarian, T