Accordingly, when I saw him leave his luggage to the mercies of the baggage man, I stepped forward. Quite unconcernedly in view of the other passengers who were still standing waiting their turn, acting entirely as if it were my own, I opened the unlocked kiste and rummaging among its contents soon brought to light a plain, large envelope sealed with wax. Breaking the seal I took out the only paper it contained, glanced at it, smiled to myself and went to work--swift work, for at any moment Schmidt might return. If I had not made my plans long ahead, the simple taking of the document would only have added to the problem. Understand, I did not want to steal the document, merely its contents. Now, in the brief minutes that I had beside the luggage, it was impossible to memorize all the contents of the document. So I judged would be the case and I had come prepared. Under my arm was a popular novel and between the pages of this lay a sheet of special lotion paper, chemically treated in a way known only to the German Secret Service and capable of taking a quick clean print of anything written in pencil or ink. As I lifted the dossier from the kiste I noticed that it was embossed on a greenish white paper, not unlike a bank of England note in color. It was written in German and signed with a foreign office cipher, the letters W and B intertwined. Following this was the numeral 24, the Wilhelmstrasse serial number of the document. Taking a chance that Herr Schmidt would be fascinated just a minute longer by the magic skyline of New York, I slipped the dossier against the special lotion paper and took an accurate print by sitting on it for two minutes. I then replaced the document in the dispatch envelope and being sure to leave everything appearing as it was, even to fixing the broken seal as best I could, lest by chance Herr Schmidt should return and glance at his kiste. It was a case now of getting safely off the ship and reaching the nearest cable office for had Schmidt suspected anything, the boat would never have docked until everybody on board had been searched. There was small danger of this, however, for nothing had occurred to alarm Herr Schmidt. The lotion paper used by the German Secret Service has been perfected to such an extent that when taking the print it does not leave any signs on the original. Accordingly, there would likely not have been a clew--only on close scrutiny would it be seen that the seal had been tampered with--even had Schmidt examined his kiste again before landing. My luggage passed, I made my way to the nearest cable office outside the zone of the steamship offices. At Fourteenth Street and Broadway I entered a Western Union office and wrote out this message to "Buzzing" London. A copy of this being herewith reproduced: February 12, 1913. Buzzing, London.