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 at a music hall, yet, strangely enough, two weeks later I found this same German on the Carron Company's steamer Avon bound for Grangemouth. For some time I lost all trace of him, but last October I met the same German at the new Dock at Kirkcaldy, posing as a photographer. At that time the name on his bag was H. Shindler. We had a drink together, but, on my asking why he had changed his profession, he laughed mysteriously, and admitted that he had made a long tour of England and Wales, taking many interesting pictures. Each time I met him he had considerably altered his appearance, and the last I saw of him was when I saw him into the train on his way to Dunfermline."

Yet another I pick out at haphazard. It is from an actor whose name is well known, and is, as are all the others, at the disposal of any official inquirers. He writes to me:

"I was engaged to play in the 'panto' of 'Sinbad the Sailor.' We were to rehearse and play a week at the 'Prince's Theatre,' Llandudno. I was in the habit of visiting a certain barber's shop, and was always attended to by a German assistant. He seemed a man of about forty years of age, and his name was K [the actual name is given]. On the first Saturday of my sojourn in the place I called at the shop, along with another member of our company. When about to leave, my 'pal' and myself were rather startled by the 'attendant' inviting the two of us to come for a drive on the following day, Sunday. Naturally we accepted the invitation, at the same time thinking it rather strange that a man earning say 30s. a week could afford such a luxury as a drive. At noon, next day, my friend and I turned up at the rendezvous, and sure enough our friend was there with a landau and pair. This was certainly doing the 'big thing,' but more was to follow.