Two days later Lawless was taken ashore at a certain German port under an armed escort. He was domiciled temporarily in the local prison, and on the following morning an escort took him to another part of the building and ushered him into a sort of office where various uniformed individuals were gathered. There a careful record was made of his name, professional rank, place of birth, and many other private details of his life and habits. Then he was photographed. This done, a sergeant stepped forward and, gripping the prisoner by the shoulders, began, with the assistance of a private, to feel in his trouser pockets. At this the Lieutenant's patience vanished and, before the sergeant had time to guess what was coming, he had been pitched head first into a large wastepaper basket and the private had taken a header into the coal scuttle. But before Lawless could perform any further athletic feats, he was seized by three soldiers and forced against the wall. Then the search recommenced, and various articles, including a note from a tailor threatening legal proceedings unless he received a "remittance forthwith," were brought to light. "Ach, what is this?" asked an officer looking at a crumpled piece of paper which the sergeant had handed to him with an air of triumph. He carefully smoothed it out, and then, exhibiting it to the prisoner, repeated the question. Lawless glanced at it, and then, despite the gravity of his position, burst into a hearty laugh, whereat the officer, the sergeant and the privates all scowled at him reprovingly. On one side of the paper were scrawled the following incriminating words: "Conshus, Contitious, Concious." On the other side were a number of strange-looking figures bearing some resemblance to a capital L. "Why," said Lawless when he had recovered from his hilarity, "I was trying some days ago to spell 'conscious' and, not being quite sure about it, wrote it down different ways to see which looked right. Of course," he added confidently, "it was the last one." "And these?" queried the officer, pointing to the straggling hieroglyphics. "Oh, I was uncertain how to write a capital _q_--I don't often write that letter as a capital--and I experimented. Those are the experiments." "They are a secret code," said the officer accusingly. "Secret fiddlesticks!" ejaculated Lawless. "You refuse to decipher it?" "Confound it all, there's nothing to decipher." "Very well," said the officer, making a note in a little book. He then waved his hand to indicate that the examination was at an end, and a couple of soldiers, with side-arms drawn, marched the prisoner back to the little room he occupied in the prison and there left him. On the following morning he was again brought before his examiner and again declared that the scribble had nothing to do with any code. "You will be sent to the fortress of Glatz," said the officer.