At the Embassy in Berlin I had been told to change trains at a place called Löhne 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 had in the baggage car all the routine mail for the State Department in Washington, amounting to some two hundred and fifty pounds in two big leather mail-sacks.) Although I replied that I thought it better to change at Löhne anyway, the conductor insisted upon my following his plan. He was backed up by the detective, who, except for various goings out and in, had remained facing me. They informed me that in any event my mail-bags in the baggage car would go through to Essen. As by this time the train was already slowing up for the station at Löhne, I accepted the inevitable. Essen is not on the most direct route to Goch where one crosses the German border into Holland, and in consequence I arrived in Goch via Essen much too late to catch the last train from there to Flushing. Since boats leave Flushing only once a day, early in the morning, I had to lose one whole day and was compelled to remain another night on German soil. I do not pretend to offer any explanation for these strange happenings. I was followed constantly thereafter, as previously, the men being cleverly changed at every opportunity. My every step was dogged. At Wesel a detective sat at the same table in the station restaurant while I ate dinner. Such being the case I was, to say the least, a bit annoyed.