Kenneth entered the tobacconist's first. As he did so he momentarily forgot that he carried his rifle across his back. In passing through the narrow doorway the muzzle of the weapon struck the plate-glass window of the porch and cracked it. Alarmed by the crash the shopkeeper rushed out, but before Kenneth could offer any apologies the man gave a howl of terror. "Mercy, monsieur Englishman!" he exclaimed. "Indeed I could not help it. Von Koenik compelled me to disclose your name." Kenneth, ever quick-witted, grasped the situation instantly. The tobacconist was none other than the spy who, under the name of Jules de la Paix, kept a similar establishment at Brussels. There his dirty work had been completed; at Antwerp it was just beginning. The fellow had also recognized Kenneth as the Englishman he had basely denounced to his paymasters, the Germans. Seeing him in uniform and armed, with a fully-accoutred companion, the spy jumped at the hasty and erroneous conclusion that Kenneth had discovered his duplicity and had come to arrest him. His panic at seeing the man whom he supposed to be dead amounted to a superstitious terror. Hardly knowing what he said, he let fall the damning admission that he was at least partly responsible for Kenneth's arrest at Brussels. "You are my prisoner!" exclaimed Kenneth sternly. Momentarily recovering his courage, the fellow drew back. His hand flew to his pocket, but before he could produce a concealed weapon the British lad grasped him by both arms. Meanwhile Rollo, guessing by the crash of the broken glass that something was amiss, had sauntered leisurely into the shop, fully expecting to hear his chum apologizing profusely to the tobacconist for his clumsiness. To his surprise, he found Kenneth and the shopkeeper swaying to and fro in a desperate struggle. Chairs had been overturned, cases of pipes and packets of tobacco were being thrown in all directions. In spite of being encumbered with his rifle and kit, Kenneth succeeded in throwing the spy to the floor and kneeling on his chest. [Illustration: KENNETH SUCCEEDED IN THROWING THE SPY TO THE FLOOR] "Get a strap, a rope, or something, old man," he exclaimed breathlessly. "We've collared a spy." Rollo obeyed. It was one of those rare instances when he acted on the spur of his chum's orders and argued the situation afterwards. He could not understand how Kenneth had effected the capture without any previous warning. To him, a lad brought up in a country where law and order moves with slow and majestic deliberation, it looked like a case of illegal arrest. Nevertheless he found a length of packing-cord, and deftly secured the arms of the now exhausted spy, tying them at the wrists behind his back.