Chippy gave his companion a nudge, and they looked at each other in astonishment. Then they watched Albert closely, and saw him fold into small compass the piece of paper upon which he had been writing, place it inside the heel, and screw the latter up again.
An idea shot into Dick's mind. If he had never been a boy scout, that idea would not have occurred to him; but in his enthusiasm he had bought Baden-Powell's 'Aids to Scouting,' and read it over and over again. One chapter in that little book now sprang to his memory, and he touched Chippy, and beckoned to the latter to draw back completely out of sight.
They slipped eight or ten yards away, and put their heads close together and held a whispered conversation.
Dick's eyes shone brightly, and he took Chippy by the arm. 'Chippy,' he said, 'I believe that's a spy!'
Chippy's sharp face wore a puzzled look. 'A spy!' he repeated. 'Wot's he a-spyin' on in the he'th?'
'The fort, Chippy—the fort!' breathed Dick eagerly—'the Horseshoe, the new fort!'
'Ah!' said the Raven, and began to see what his companion meant.
'I've read all about it in a book of B.-P.'s,' went on Dick. 'Foreigners will do anything to learn about a new fort. They send spies to find out all they can. He's taking notes of all he discovers, and hiding the papers in the heel of his boot.'
Chippy gave an eager nod. His keen face lighted up at this new and wonderful turn of events. A spy! a foreign spy! He felt at once that here was greater game than any escaped convict.
'That's why he dodged the sergeant,' breathed Chippy.