Silently the spy picked up a boot belonging to the person he intended to rob and examined it carefully. It was an "eight":--a similar size to his. So far so good; he could only hope that the fellow resembled him in build and height. He must at all events avoid the incongruity of donning the clothes of a man five feet two or six feet one. Very deftly von Preussen tried the door-handle. The sleeper had omitted to bolt the door. The snores continued. Creeping into the room the intruder closed the door. The lawful occupant had evidently not intended to wake up and switch on the light, otherwise he would not have thrown back the heavy curtains and admitted the moonlight. Neatly folded on a chair were the man's clothes. For once the methodical habits of their owner were to his disadvantage. Quickly von Preussen collected the articles, and, pausing only for a few minutes to make sure that the corridor was deserted, regained his own room. Ten minutes later, having crammed his portmanteau with his newly-gotten booty, he again turned in. He had arranged to be called at eight-thirty. He saw no object in anticipating the hour. Let the occupier of the adjoining room discover his loss. The management would not dare to question the officer guest or examine his portmanteau. At seven he was awakened by a furious ringing and a bellowing voice. He smiled grimly. The fun was about to commence. He could hear various members of the hotel staff talking excitedly, while the indignant tones of the robbed guest dominated all. Pleading a headache caused by the noise and that he was suffering from shell-shock, von Preussen had his breakfast brought to his bedroom. Then, having shaved and paid his bill, he grasped his now heavy portmanteau and left the hotel. He made his way to Princes Street, feeling horribly self-conscious. At every salute he received and returned, he felt that the man who gave it had his suspicions. He made haste to board the first tramcar, which, he noticed, was marked "Portobello and Joppa." Before the car had passed Scott's Monument a couple of R.A.F. officers boarded it and, to the spy's consternation, took seats immediately behind him. Presently one of them, a captain, tapped von Preussen on the shoulder: "Can you oblige me with a match, old bean?" The old bean complied without a word. The next question came with startling suddenness: "'Spose you haven't come across Captain Fennelburt?" The spy, controlling himself with an effort, turned his head and laughed. "Hope you don't think I'm the fellow?" he inquired. "If, so, you won't get that hundred pounds, old son. I heard this morning that he had been collared at Perth." "Is that so?" asked the other, a subaltern. "What was all the racket about?" "Misappropriation of mess funds, I believe," replied von Preussen. He now felt more at ease and master of the situation. He forced the conversation on trivial topics until his undesirable acquaintances reached their destination.