en used
and an assault committed. This would "let me out," since a
dispatch-bearer cannot be expected successfully to defend himself
against the whole Germany army. Incidentally I might add that
interference in any way with the dispatch-bearer of a neutral country
is a very heinous international and diplomatic sin. I therefore
jerked my envelope of papers rudely out of the detective's hand and
gave him a vigorous shove, resisting an almost overwhelming temptation
to hit him with all my might on his fat, unprotected jaw. I had half
risen to my feet, meanwhile keeping a grip on the dispatch bag with my
knees, and at the same time I vigorously swung my hips and freed
myself from the man below. The detective struck the opposite wall of
the compartment and bounced off toward the doorway, where he and the
conductors stood jabbering and waving their arms and ever getting more
and more purple in the face.

Finally the detective showed his police card, and I then extended to
them my Eagle-stamped courier passport, following it with my Embassy
credential and my certificate of identity or personal passport. These
three made a complete case and I refused to show anything more,
insisting that my status had been adequately established. The
officials continued to jabber and argue, having been continuously
impolite during the entire episode, a mode of behavior which was a
notable divergence from my previous experiences with agents of the
Imperial Secret Service. The chief detective, whose name was Werther,
continued to hang around, trying to talk with me, evidently determined
to get further information about my plans.

I do not pretend to judge whether all this was mere accidental
clumsiness and rudeness on the part of stupid detectives or if it was
something very much deeper, prompted by someone higher up. One is,
however, inclined to doubt inefficiency in the Prussian Secret Service
and there may have been reasons why German authorities would count it
of great importance to know the contents of my pouch.

At the Embassy in Berlin I had been told to change trains at a place
called Loehne where I was to arrive at two o'clock. Just before
reaching this point, the conductor came through and told me that it
would be much more convenient for me to stay on the train until Essen,
that this would give me one less change in my journey to Flushing, and
that it was altogether a better route. (I must remark that, besides
the bag in hand, I ha