"But I say, Greens," interrupted Captain Coronet, "don’t you think we have frightened these bounders?"
"No. They are still working. And they even cover their sins by sending their sons into the commissioned and other ranks of our forces. Many of these boys fight gallantly for us, while their dirty old fathers are playing a double game. I admit we must be generous. A German must remain a German. He is entitled to his patriotism. Still, that is no argument for our stupidity. Our land, our homes, our liberty, and our women are dear to us. By heavens! we have got the finest heritage of all the nations. It’s worth fighting for; yes, worth dying for."
"Good old Greens," echoed the thrilled subalterns. Then Longlegs started him off again by the sceptical inquiry—
"Look here, Greens, can you prove what you say? If you can catch a real live spy in Mudtown within the next month, I’ll stand champagne all round."
"Done," said Greens, with an emphasis which startled all. "But, I say, it’s two _A.M._ We’ve been talking for hours. We’d better go to bed. Good-night."
"Good-night, Greens," answered his fellow-officers, remaining a little behind to discuss the wonderful phase of his character which Greens had so well revealed.
"Longlegs," said Coronet, as he turned into his sleeping bags, "you’ve lost your bet. Greens will keep his word."
"Good luck to him," replied the long subaltern as he also went off into the arms of Morpheus.
For many nights Greens was absent from dinner. This did not surprise those in the know. He was spy-hunting. Though the military and police had terrified many of the fraternity, Greens knew that he would at least catch one. So he lounged carelessly through the streets, casually glancing at every face. Unlike the average policeman, he did not search for the square head, flaxen hair, and soft-footed Teuton. He could tell by their eyes. Strange as this may seem, any Intelligence Officer will substantiate the same. The spy has that peculiar glint of cunning, with a touch of the haunted and hunted, and the shifty movements which always suggest a base intent. Such a keen student of espionage found little difficulty in locating his man. Nevertheless he waited almost a fortnight before he got his chance, and then it came almost unexpectedly. While lounging carelessly in a public place, he was amazed to hear a man using German gutturals behind. This person was inquiring of his friend, in a somewhat casual style, as to the number of troops in the town, where they were located, and what was their job in the event of any attack. Listening intently, he discovered a keen German brain analysing all the replies of the honest and simple-minded citizen. Through a mirror the observant officer studied the face of the spy. Strong, almost English, with firm set lines and a chin suggesting courage of a bull-dog kind. An excellent type for such a mission. His flaxen hair and a slight student cut on the lip were the only outward signs of his race. His English, to an ordinary man, would have passed unobserved, but Greens detected the thick guttural now and again, as well as a furtive glance towards his own person. This German agent was unaware of the keen scrutiny which he was being subjected to through the mirror. Nor did he imagine that the officer who paid his bill and went out would confront him again with his escort of soldiers.