Reluctantly I acquiesced in his suggestion--knowing that all the valuables were safely reposing in the American Embassy. So I had the pleasure of standing by and watching Bedri and his associates search the whole establishment. All they turned up was a small tin box containing a few copper coins, a prize which was so trifling that the Turks disdained to take it. They were much puzzled and disappointed, and from that day to this they have never known what became of the money. If my Turkish friends do me the honour of reading these pages they will find that I have explained here for the first time one of the many mysteries of those exciting days. As some of the windows of the convent opened on the court of the Cathedral, which was Vatican property, we contended that the Turkish Government could not seize it. Such of the Sisters as were neutrals were allowed to remain in possession of the part that faced the Vatican land, while the rest of the building was turned into an engineers’ school. We arranged that the French nuns should have ten days to leave for their own country; they all reached their destination safely, and most are at present engaged in charities and war-work in France. My jocular statement that I intended to write a book deeply impressed Bedri, and in the next few weeks he repeatedly referred to it. I kept banteringly telling him that, unless his behaviour improved, I should be forced to picture him as the villain. One day he asked me, in all seriousness, whether he could not do something that would justify me in portraying him in a more favourable light. This attitude gave me an opportunity I had been seeking for some time. Constantinople had for many years been a centre for the white slave trade, and a particularly vicious gang was then operating under cover of a fake synagogue. An international committee, organised to fight this crew, had made me chairman. I told Bedri that he now had the chance to secure a reputation. Because of the war, his powers as Prefect of Police had been greatly increased, and a little vigorous action on his part would permanently rid the city of this disgrace. The enthusiasm with which Bedri adopted my suggestion and the thoroughness and ability with which he did the work entitle him to the gratitude of all decent people. In a few days every white slave trader in Constantinople was scurrying for safety. Most were arrested, a few made their escape; such as were foreigners, after serving terms in gaol, were expelled from the country. Bedri furnished me with photographs of all the culprits, and they are now on file in our State Department. I was not writing a book at that time, but I felt obliged to secure some public recognition for Bedri’s work. I therefore sent his photograph, with a few words about his achievement, to the New York _Times_, which published it in a Sunday edition. That a great American newspaper had recognised him in this way delighted Bedri beyond words.