aid. "I'm only glad it's
no worse. He might have shot you. He's mad over the idea that every
stranger he sees----"

The prisoner quickly interrupted.

"Please!" he begged, "don't blame the boy. He behaved extremely well.
Might I speak with you--_alone_?" he asked.

Judge Van Vorst led the way across the terrace, and to the smoking-room,
that served also as his office, and closed the door. The stranger walked
directly to the mantelpiece and put his finger on a gold cup.

"I saw your mare win that at Belmont Park," he said. "She must have been
a great loss to you?"

"She was," said Van Vorst. "The week before she broke her back, I
refused three thousand for her. Will you have a cigarette?"

The stranger waved aside the cigarettes.

"I brought you inside," he said, "because I didn't want your servants to
hear; and because I don't want to hurt that boy's feelings. He's a fine
boy; and he's a damned clever scout. I knew he was following me and I
threw him off twice, but to-day he caught me fair. If I really had been
a German spy, I couldn't have got away from him. And I want him to think
he _has_ captured a German spy. Because he deserves just as much
credit as though he had, and because it's best he shouldn't know whom he
_did_ capture."

Van Vorst pointed to the map. "My bet is," he said, "that you're an
officer of the State militia, taking notes for the fall manoeuvres. Am
I right?"

The stranger smiled in approval, but shook his head.

"You're warm," he said, "but it's more serious than manoeuvres. It's
the Real Thing." From his pocketbook he took a visiting card and laid it
on the table. "I'm 'Sherry' McCoy," he said, "Captain of Artillery in
the United States Army." He nodded to the hand telephone on the table.

"You can call up Governor's Island and get General Wood or his aide,
Captain Dorey, on the phone. They sent me here. Ask _them_. I'm not
picking out gun sites for the Germans; I'm picking out positions of
defense for Americans when the Germans come!"

Van Vorst laughed derisively.

"My word!" he exclaimed. "You're as bad as Jimmie!"

Captain McCoy regarded him with disfavor.

"And you, sir," he retorted, "are as bad as ninety million other
Americans. You _won't_ believe! When the Germans are shelling this
hill, when they're taking your hunters to pull their cook-wagons, maybe,
you'll believe _then_."

"Are you serious?" demanded Van Vorst. "And you an army officer?"

"That's why I am serio