rivals. I often said to Germans holding high office during the
war, "This strain is breaking you down,--all day in your office.
Take an afternoon off and come shooting with me." The invariable
answer was, "I cannot--the others would learn it from their spies
and would spread the report that I neglect business!"

While in Spain I met the then Premier, Count Romanones, a man of
great talent and impressive personality. He told me of the
finding of a quantity of high explosives, marked by a little
buoy, in one of the secluded bays of the coast. And that day a
German had been arrested who had mysteriously appeared at a
Spanish port dressed as a workman. The workman took a first class
passage to Madrid, went to the best hotel and bought a complete
outfit of fine clothes. Undoubtedly the high explosive as well as
the mysterious German had been landed from a German submarine.
Whether the explosive was destined as a depot for submarines or
was to help overturn the Spanish government was hard to guess,
but Count Romanones was worried over the activity of the German
agents in Spain.

It has been very easy for German agents in America to communicate
with Germany through this submarine post from Spain to Germany,
the letters from America being sent to Cuba and thence on Spanish
boats to Spain.

At all times since the war the Germans have had a submarine post
running direct from Germany to Spain. Shortly after our arrival
in Spain Mrs. Gerard received mysteriously a letter written by a
friend of hers, a German Baroness, in Berlin. This letter had
undoubtedly been sent through the very efficient German spy
system.

Sometime in 1915 a German soldier, in uniform, speaking perfect
English, called one day at the Embassy. He said that his name was
Bode and that he had at one time worked for my father-in-law, the
late Marcus Daly. Of course, we had no means of verifying his
statements and Mrs. Gerard did not remember any one of that name
or recall Bode personally. He said that he was fighting on the
East front and that he had a temporary leave of absence. I gave
him some money and later we sent him packages of food and tobacco
to the front, but never received any acknowledgment.

In Madrid one of my assistants, Frank Hall, while walking through
the street, ran across Bode, who was fashionably attired. His
calling cards stated that he was a mining engineer from Los
Angeles, California. He told Hall a most extraordinary fairy
story,