"He's a foreigner, ain't he?" the youth shot back. "Besides, we heard...."
"What did you hear?"
"They're lookin for the spies."
"Who's looking for spies?"
"Cops."
"Who says so?"
The boy looked directly at Tremaine for an instant, flicked his eyes to the corner of the cell. "Cops was talkin about 'em," he said.
"Spill it, Hull," the policeman said. "Mr. Tremaine hasn't got all night."
"They parked out east of town, on 302, back of the woodlot. They called me over and asked me a bunch of questions. Said I could help 'em get them spies. Wanted to know all about any funny-actin people around hers."
"And you mentioned Bram?"