Now and again a member of the Mounted Constabulary would ride up and exchange a few words or even go inside for a glass of refreshment when he saw the flag flying, which was always a sign that Mr. Brown was in residence. He had one servant, a Swiss youth, who was valet, groom and cook. I have said about the Higher Service that I knew most of the members. Some of the names had been officially supplied to me, before my return to England to take up my work, by von Igel, who was practically in charge of all the commercial work in New York. Some of them I had already located on my previous visits to England; while some were so important, so well-born and so well-connected with Illustrious Excellencies, that not only were their names withheld from me but I was discouraged whenever I applied to Headquarters for information. My local agents in Scotland had already marked down Mr. Brown, of Australia, and I had put through an inquiry about this gentleman, informing the _Kriegsministerium_ that he was evidently well educated, that he was a fluent German scholar, and that he belonged to a superior London club, much frequented by ministers and attachés. Obviously his name was not “Brown,” and the two surreptitious views I secured of him, one close at hand and one through powerful field-glasses, left no doubt in my mind that he was a son of the Fatherland. We Germans have an instinct one for the other, a sort of sixth sense due to our common kultur and to our higher human development. Headquarters could tell us nothing, and I thought I detected a certain discouragement in the wording of the brief message which came through to me, and drew my own conclusions. There were certain peculiarities about Mr. Brown which strengthened my resolve, and von Kahn, who had paid two visits to Glen Macintyre, was even more emphatic. “It is not my desire, as you well know, von Kahn,” said I, “to intrude myself into illustrious circles, but there is every reason, in view of the fate of poor Koos, why we should get in touch with every friend we can muster.” There is only one other incident of my stay in Dundee to record, and that is a curious one. In my rôle as a Chilian importer, I carried a fairly large sum of money, and to emphasize my association with the South American Republic, and the international character of my business, it was my custom in every new town I visited to call either on a money-changer or the principal bank, and request an exchange of British money for my foreign notes. Accordingly I went into the Dundee branch of the Bank of Tayside and producing a small bundle of notes asked for their British equivalent. There were, I remember, twelve hundred _peses_ notes of Chili, a ten-condor note of Ecuador, a hundred-franc note of France and a hundred-franc note of the Bank of Switzerland.