The first step was to locate one of the German envoys. To do this I had to cross to the Continent, a dangerous proceeding, at best, for there were abundant possibilities of recognition. Especially was it sticking one's head in the mouth of danger to be seen in Germany. Nevertheless to Germany I had to go to locate my man. It must be understood that the big missions of Secret Service are accomplished by many coöperating agencies. True, Great Britain had been rather slow in perfecting a continental system of espionage, but by 1913 the machinery was operating well. Downing Street had special lines of intelligence from all the European capitals. I lost no time in making use of the resources of these lesser agents, in fact a system of spying on spies, and soon had information at my disposal that led me to go to Berlin. It was in Berlin that I learned that a man known as Carl Schmidt would be the messenger for the Wilhelmstrasse, bearing the instructions too important to be trusted to transatlantic cable cipher. Exercising infinite care and tremendous patience--for should I be recognized in Berlin, the German Foreign Office would have been thrown into consternation: "What's this? A man we believed safely looking through the bars of an English prison is at large in our own capital. Hm"--completely effacing myself so far as possible, I managed to keep track of the whereabouts of Carl Schmidt. It was drawing near to February 4, the sailing day of the _Kaiser Wilhelm II_, and I kept the quarry in sight night and day. It was with the most satisfied of smiles therefore that I ascertained the purchase of railroad accommodations by Carl Schmidt for Bremen, the sailing port of the big North German Lloyd liner. Taking care to secure a seat in the same compartment with Herr Schmidt, I watched him all the way from Berlin to Bremen. Now, whenever I have carried a document of any description while traveling for any length of time, I have always let my hand wander toward its hiding place to assure myself that it was still there. Sometimes I fished in my pockets for a match, or used any pretext to locate the paper without betraying myself. There is not a human being who will not give some little sign of concern, perhaps only once an hour, but often enough to betray himself to the trained observer. Accordingly I set myself to watch Carl Schmidt's hands. Not for a minute did I relax my vigilance, yet not once on the way to Bremen did the German envoy betray himself by an apparent motion. Whereupon I became positive that Herr Schmidt had not the document upon his person. Where then was it?