“The first thing to remember just n-now,” says Mark, “is to act like we didn’t have any worry. They don’t know Motu’s here. So we’ve got to act natural and do just like we would do if he wasn’t here at all.”

“As how?” says I.

“Plunk and Binney b-better go fishin’ as soon as supper’s over. Motu’ll be just keepin’ out of sight. You and I’ll project around here to see what we can scheme out.”

So we got supper and ate it inside where Motu wouldn’t be seen. Afterward he went up-stairs, I expect to his hiding-place, and Mark and I went out on the big front porch. We sat there and talked for a while. All at once a big rabbit shot out of the bushes with its ears back like it was planning on making considerable speed. He was coming blind, but I got up to take a shy at him and he saw me. Well, sir, he was one flabbergasted rabbit. He stopped and then jumped sideways and then jumped the other way. For a minute he tried to run four ways at once, which is a hard thing to do. Then he made up his mind and scooted off along the shore till he got to a clump of little trees and disappeared.

“Uh!” says Mark.

“What you gruntin’ for?”

“F-funny-actin’ rabbit,” says he. “What d’you calc’late made him come rushin’ out like that?”

“Somethin’ scared him,” says I.

“Yes,” says he, “and I’ll bet I know what it was. We’re bein’ watched, Tallow. That rabbit marked the comin’ of the f-f-first Jap.”

“Well?” says I.

“Lucky there’s rabbits,” says he. “When you’re sure you’re b-bein’ watched you can see to it the watcher don’t see anythin’ to be of profit to him.” He sat pinching his cheek for a couple of minutes. Then he says: “Tallow, get up and s-s-stretch. Then stroll into the hotel slow and sneak up to the t-top. Don’t pass any windows. Get as high as you can over on this side and then take a look down on those bushes there. From above you may be able to see somethin’.”

I did what he said, and climbed up as near the roof of the hotel as I could get. Then I crawled over to a window that was facing the way the rabbit came from and looked down. I couldn’t see anything but trees and bushes and water, and the brown of the road winding away till it turned a bend and went out of sight.

But, I’ve noticed, one look doesn’t always show you all there is to see. Lots of times you need to look twice, and sometimes three looks don’t do any harm. I kept on squinting away—to see something move. When you look down like that, on a mass of leaves, you can’t pick out objects. But just let something move and you have it spotted. So I watched for a motion. It was fifteen minutes before I saw anything, and then I saw the top of a bush crowd over and spring back. After that I knew where to keep my eyes, and you can believe I kept them there good and sharp. Pretty soon I saw more movement, and in a minute I watched something dark crawl across a little open patch. It was a man, all right.

I’d seen all I’d been sent to see, so I went on down to Mark and told him.

“They’d just send one m-man to spy around,” says he.

“I hope he gets an eyeful,” says I.

“Don’t tell Plunk or Binney,” says he. “They might do somethin’ suspicious.”

“Here they come,” says I, and there they did come with a dozen nice perch for breakfast. I pretended to stick up my nose and says:

“I don’t see any bass. Not a bass. Huh! Well, it makes a heap of difference who goes fishin’. Some day Mark and I’ll take you along and show you how it’s done. It’s easy.”

Plunk was mad in a minute. “There ain’t a better fish in the world than a perch,” says he. “I’d rather eat one perch than a ton of bass.”

“Maybe,” says I, “but would you rather catch ’em?” I had him there, all right, and he didn’t have another word to say.

“I s’pose you’re goin’ to set a watch to-night,” says Binney.

“Yes,” says Mark, “and we’ll watch in c-c-couples. Tallow and I will sit up till midnight, and you can come on till mornin’.”

“All right,” says Plunk. “I’m ready to turn in now. Come on, Binney.”

We all went into the hotel and Binney and Plunk went to bed. Mark and I sneaked up to the top story, where there was a sort of balcony we could get out on and see as well as it was possible to see in the dark. There wasn’t much chance for anybody to see us.

Up there we sat and sat, and it got cold. Whee! but it got cold. I had enough of it.

“I’m willin’ to watch,” I whispered, “but I want to watch warm. Beginnin’ now,” says I, “I watch inside. You can stay here and freeze if you want to.”

“Maybe it’ll b-b-be a good idea to patrol the hotel,” says Mark.

So we set out stumbling through the long corridors, stopping every minute or so to peer out of a window. We went through the third floor and the second floor and most of the first floor. Then we sat down for a while in the office. It was as dark as pitch and scary enough to suit anybody. We hadn’t sat there long till Mark touched my arm and said in my ear, so low I could hardly hear him:

“L-look!”

I looked. There was a round blot against the window. It moved, and I could see it was a man’s head and he was spying in. I knew he couldn’t see us in the dark, but for all that it wasn’t the most comfortable feeling in the world. Pretty soon the head went out of sight, but it showed up again in another window. Then it disappeared and we could hear stealthy footsteps on the big porch.

The next thing was a rattle at the doorknob. Then, slow, slow, slow, a crack at a time, the door began to open. I was shaking all over and my heart was thumping so it felt like it would shake the building. I reached out and felt of Mark to make sure he was there. If I had felt for him and found he wasn’t there I believe I’d have screeched like an owl and tried to climb the walls. But he was there, all right. His han............