One evening I decided to find our Frankfurt friend. I soon discovered I had undertaken a large contract. When I looked in the directory I could not find his business address. I was about to give up in despair when the happy thought came that I might find it in the telephone book. I found the name, Heilburg, 61 Beethoven strasse. It's fortunate that many of the streets in Germany are named after the composers and artists, for though I had only been there once, I remembered they lived on a musical street. After waiting a half-hour I got my party, and had as much difficulty in making him remember who I was as I had in holding an intelligible German conversation over the 'phone. I thought the man would drop at the 'phone when I asked him for two hundred and fifty dollars, and he compromised on half the amount. Though his intentions were the best, it took a week's hard telephoning every day until I actually had the money in my hand. In the meanwhile I had received another cable from home telling me to call up a certain banker in Frankfurt. When I approached him on the same subject on the 'phone, he said he had never heard my name before, and I could not expect him to hand out money to a person he did not know. I acquiesced in his statement and said that his brother in America was a great friend of my brother. To this he answered he believed all I said was true, but did not see how he could loan me money without being authorized. Finally we compromised on seventy-five dollars, and he promised to let me have more if I sent our letter of credit. I refused to do that, as I knew it would only be lost in the mail.