A St. Louis German, with the boastfulness which fortunately offsets much of the cunning and industry of his species, bragged to his sweetheart that he was a member of the Imperial German Secret Service. Perhaps he showed her the card which German spies are not supposed to show. She, very proud, confided to a friend her lover’s distinction. The friend went to one of the local officials of the American Protective League. She had four brothers in the service, three in the Army and one in the Navy, and said that if there was a German spy in the city the authorities should know it. Unfortunately, she had forgotten the man’s name. The man’s room was raided, and evidence was unearthed that he was not only an unregistered enemy alien, but indeed a German spy. In his trunk were found firearms of the German army. He was promptly interned. Perhaps no sweetheart should have a spy, and certainly no spy should have a sweetheart. A German who predicted the defeat of the Allies before the United States entered the war, persisted in his harangues afterwards, until a League operative went to the bank where he worked. The man’s dismissal resulted. He continued at times to return to the bank, assailing some of the young women clerks with abuse and threats because of their loyalty to America. He was arrested for violating his zone permit, which the United States Marshal had revoked when the bank’s notice of his dismissal was filed. Later he was interned. One night a party from the Naval recruiting office in St. Louis was seeking enlistments at a West End theater. Moving pictures were thrown on a screen and an officer made a speech, in which he declared: “The Germans went through Belgium and France like barbarians.” A stout, well-dressed man in the audience exploded: “That’s a damned lie!” Two sailors with revolvers sprang for him over the footlights, but the first to reach him were two members of the League, who, although they had gone to the theater only for amusement, had not forgotten their duties. After a sharp tussle the disturber was overpowered. He protested indignantly that he was an American citizen, but refused stubbornly to give any other information about himself. Borrowing an automobile, the League operatives and sailors took him to a police station and notified the Federal authorities. Search of the prisoner’s effects showed that he was an unnaturalized German subject, though he had lived in the United States for fourteen years. He was interned for the duration of the war. Of such is the glorious Kingdom of Deutschland.