Siraisi with documents from Headquarters, Miamura was sent to Irkutsk to investigate the situation, as Hiroto was too busy to come. It was then that Miamura had the interview with Katzan at Srul's hotel which the proprietor had overheard and reported to me. All this we learned by overhearing the conversation between the latter officer and Lieutenant M

From the same source we ascertained these facts concerning the Siraisis: The elder man was a major of the Japanese Staff, who had resided in Port Arthur, disguised as a laundryman, before our war with Japan, when it was still in Russia's possession. His successful services there had caused him to be entrusted with the management of the whole espionage service in Siberia, which he was now conducting from his laundry in Irkutsk. He was a very clever man, but also exceedingly cautious. In fact he was too prudent to render the best possible service to his country. His assistant, whom he called his brother, was a lieutenant of engineers, and an extremely morose and unsociable man. This fellow confined himself to photographing documents, opening correspondence, and counterfeiting seals. Of the three laundry employees, two were noncommissioned officers, both of whom spoke some Russian. One of them was a trained detective who was used for outside work and knew how to manufacture cigarettes. The third employee was the only real laundryman in the establishment, and did all of its actual work.

The brothel keeper was a captain of the Reserve. His establishment's linen was taken to Siraisi's laundry to be washed twice a week, and all the latter's correspondence and documents were carried back and forth in these laundry packages. When it was urgent for anything to be dispatched immedi

ately, an extra bundle of linen was made up.

Every week, and sometimes more frequently, as the occasion of the service demanded, Japanese women inmates of the brothel left Irkutsk on the pretext of going back to Japan for medical treatment. They were always accompanied as far as Chang-Chun by a servant, and carried, concealed in their apparel, the secret documents that were sent to Japan - because women, especially sick women, were never carefully searched at the border. The women who went home were immediately replaced by others, who brought Siraisi in the same manner instructions and other papers from the Japanese intelligence service at ChangChun.

A Japanese captain resided at Chita, where he ran a Japanese store that really belonged to his Government. He was in charge of the whole espionage service east of Lake Baikal. The clerks in his store were also professional spies. He was second in rank to Siraisi, and often visited Irkutsk.

Miamura's conversations with Lieutenant M—, especially when he got voluble with vodka, thus proved a fruitful source of information. We learned, among other things, the mysterious story of Major Maori of the Japanese military attaché's office in Petrograd. When I was at Omsk inspecting the work of my department in 1913, I received a telegram from my lieutenant in Irkutsk telling me that this Major Maori had stopped for several days in that city on his way from Petrograd to Japan. After calling on the Commanding General he had put on civilian clothing and strolled through the city. In the course of his walk he had posted a large package at a letter box. We secured possession of this package and opened it. It contained a very complete plan of the

Trans-Siberian Railway, showing all the new constructions and changes of line up to that date. We showed this plan to our Chief of Staff, but that officer was unwilling to authorize us to detain and search Major Maori, on account of his diplomatic

status.

Fearing that Maori would escape punishment, I personally wired to the Chief of Staff in Petrograd insisting upon his immediate arrest. My telegram had the desired effect, and an order was given to do so. But by this time the enterprising spy had left the city. My lieutenant wired to Chita, however, and he was arrested there and taken from the train despite his vigorous protests. We discovered in

his luggage a map of the railway similar to the one he had posted at Irkutsk, and many other documents that proved clearly his espionage activities in Russia. When Major Maori realized that all his secrets had been discovered, and that further protests were useless, he requested permission to dispatch two telegrams, one to the General Staff at Tokyo and the other to the Military Attaché at Petrograd. They were almost identical in wording. In them he apologized to the Russian and Japanese Governments for his indiscretion. The one to Tokyo contained his resignation, and ended with the following words: 'I acted on my own authority, without instructions from anybody.'

March 6. Genoa. They're slow getting the baggage aboard. Our papers were ready at noon, but the last trunk and bundle were not on board until 4 P.M. After we finally started, we had to anchor again because the cable of the tug fouled our right propeller. At length we left, at 5 P.M., running into a fresh wind and heavy head seas from the south. Among our Genoa passengers are this season's members of the Italian troupe at the Metropolitan Opera. Jolly devils, every one of them. I have carried several of them before. But they don't take well with the other first-class passengers, and I expect we

1 From La Stampa (Turin Independent daily), April 15

shall have trouble all the way over. The gentlemen have a habit of calling themselves married. Tintroduced to me a lady, who is traveling with him, as his wife. These artists, when they are really married, generally do as we sailors do leave their wives at home and save their pennies.

March 7. Naples. - We tie up at Immacolatella. Emigrant inspection goes off smoothly. Lots of women and crying babies. I never like that. It makes me feel as if my own children were crying. I am impressed again by the frequency with which the word mangiare

'eating' occurs in the talk of our Italians, especially those from the South. For them the stomach is the

.

constant theme of conversation. No sooner do they get aboard than they begin: 'I have n't had a bite since I left home.' 'My food sticks in my throat.' . . . 'I simply cannot get down my grub.' Another complains to everyone he meets: 'I've paid one hundred lire a day for my passage, and now I can't enjoy the meals.'

A fireman named Zappala Carnelo has fallen from an iron gangway landing to the floor of the fireroom, about eight metres. We have sent him ashore and hired a substitute. A bad beginning.

March 8. At sea. We left at 2 P.M. Every cabin berth taken and 2572 people in the third class. We are drawing 24.8 feet aft and 24.4 feet forward. This evening the usual manœuvres began in the Winter Garden. An American had three chorus girls in there carrying on as he might at some redlight restaurant. I've given orders to stop it.

March 10. At sea.

Clear weather

with a fresh breeze. A 292-knot run. I've ordered the Winter Garden closed nights and have doubled the electric lights on the promenade deck. These Americans are a hundred times worse than the poor chorus girls. And they 're all said to be from Philadelphia, the Quaker City.

March 11. At sea. Clear weather and a fresh breeze. But we 're making only 15.9 knots. The chief engineer says that we are making the usual number of revolutions and imagines that the current must be against us—extraordinary in the Mediterranean. He also reports an injury to the right propeller. Always the right propeller! Anyway, we are losing time. One of the passengers, Signor C, the son of the lady of the same name who has cut such a figure in Genoa, has been specially recommended to me. Papa is sending him to America 'to make his for

tune.' A rather forlorn hope, I imagine. He has struck up a close friendship with Mr. Hooley, the American of the Winter Garden episode. But that gentleman is already rich and can allow himself some extravagances. Trouble at the doctor's table. An ill-mannered fellow there began to rag two young Canadian priests. This evening his remarks became offensive. I've had to call the fellow into my cabin and tell him to behave himself.

March 12-13. At sea. - Rough weather. The ship is pitching rather uncomfortably against a head sea. 394 knots. This evening we passed between Pico and San Jorge, anchoring at 9 P.M. in front of Horta.

March 14. Had to wait until 10 A.M. to make the harbor. Entered under too much headway and injured the anchor gear. Loaded 160 tons of coal very rapidly. My bill amounts to £187.8.11, but if coal costs 278.6d., as I was told it would at Genoa, there is an undercharge of £12. I note it in my letter of advice to the office, but O. K. the bill without saying anything. Sail at 7.30 P.M. in nasty weather for the south edge of the Gulf Stream.

March 15-16. At sea. - Strong head winds. 360 knots. A violent squall this evening with heavy rain. Then the wind turned. Evidently we are in the centre of the depression, which is accompanying us westward. Two young married women, who are always together, were the only ladies at table to-day. Their solicitude for their little children brought them to the diningroom. Other passengers in their berths.

March 17. At sea. - High winds from the northeast with rain and exceedingly rough water. I slowed down at 3.30 this morning to three-quarters speed. At 8 A.M. resumed full speed. Experimented with fish oil ejected through the drains, with excellent results. 313 miles. We are in touch with the

Lucania on the west-southwest, and with the Provence of the Fabre Line. The latter vessel reports herself in the midst of a furious storm coming from the north. Waves 7.8 metres high and 156 metres from crest to crest.

March 18. At sea. - Still rough and rainy. Wind shifts again toward evening. At 5.30 P.M. we ship a wave over the starboard bow, flooding the deck. I order the engineer to slow down and iron deadlights placed over the ports. Have to slow down still more for engine adjustment. Resume at full speed later. 346 miles.

March 20.-At six o'clock this morning we picked up the Fire Island lightship. At 10.30 we took on board a pilot, at noon we were at quarantine, and at four o'clock at the wharf. For two days we have been navigating through dense fog. As soon as we passed quarantine I turned in to my berth and fell sound asleep.

March 26. New York. Cargo is aboard, our cabins are full, and we are carrying 977 third-class passengers. We left at one o'clock, dropping our pilot at 3.30. We were scarcely out of the harbor when a woman named Spalla Vitanonia died. She came from Cleveland, and had been in America only three months. That is all we know about her. Perhaps she left children.

March 27. At sea. - Head winds. 272 miles. I have discovered among the second-class passengers a doctor named Bussi whom I brought over on a previous trip. He had then been in Argentina, out in the pampas, where he had made lots of money. He was paid mileage for visiting his patients the farther away the sick man, the bigger the fee. Apparently imagining distances were still greater in the United States, he came to New York with his savings, full of anticipation of making

a vast fortune practising there. Now he is going back, glum and discouraged, in the second class. I suppose he has lost everything.

March 29. At sea. After a bit of nasty weather we have struck clear skies and blue water. Many of our cabin passengers are prosperous ItalianAmericans going back home on a visit. They have no idea how to behave in a first-class cabin, and spend most of their time playing cards with gorgeous Neapolitan packs that look like florists' lithographs. After each meal the stewards have to shoo them out of the dining saloon as you would a flock of chickens. Finally they scatter, most of them going down into the steerage, where their friends are or their relatives. We have husbands traveling second-class whose wives and children. are in the steerage. Chivalrous people! I have also got the Bishop of Santo Domingo on board. He will talk of nothing but the remains of Columbus, which he pretends to have in his cathedral. He always drinks Xeres and Truxillo wines, insisting that any other kind of wine, even though it may be Spanish, makes him violently seasick.

March 30. At sea. - One of our firstclass passengers, a newly rich ItalianAmerican, objected when the first steward asked him to put on a collar at dinner: 'What! I pay five hundred dollars for my passage. Have I got to put on a collar besides?' He said this in broken English, to make it more impressive.

March 31. At sea. One of our steerage passengers named Strameglia Sabino, a young fellow twenty-two years old, has died of nephritis. Two deaths so far! This poor fellow was nearly gone when they brought him on board. He was one of the many who have been picked clean by the doctors and their fellow countrymen. Then they shipped him off to sea to die there out of sight.

April 1. At sea. Seven o'clock this morning we buried Sabino at sea. Some of our cabin passengers, having discovered that the Bishop of Santo Domingo will drink only Truxillo wine, have started out to try every vintage and brand we have on board. There is a regular competition to pick out odd and unusual varieties. It all goes to the profit of the bar. Our Italian-Americans have great arguments over how to act in society. One asserted that cheese was always served before sweets, and, in order to prove himself an authority on the subject, declared that he had observed this when dining with the Italian Ambassador at Washington and with the president of the Pennsylvania Railroad. But a little later he got confused in his argument and said in his country cheese was always served as an hors d'œuvre.

A party of American passengers, all 'schoolma'ams,' who are going to see Florence and Rome, have been taking lessons in eating macaroni. They surely have some experts at their table who are well qualified to teach them. When dinner was over, they all shook hands with great laughter, their fingers mussy with macaroni, cheese, and Italian sauce.

April 2. At sea. - Good Friday. The Bishop of Santo Domingo celebrated Mass, but we discovered that the only man on board who knew enough about the ceremony to assist him was our second quartermaster, a certain Saglietto Lazzaro, from Port Maurice. April 3. At sea. - At ten o'clock this morning we were off Tarifa. One of the third-class passengers, a regular Neapolitan professional, but a little Americanized, has robbed four immigrants. He was caught in the act. We have discovered that two of my stokers, young fellows who look like sharpers, are his accomplices. The Bishop of Santo Domingo insisted on visiting the men after their arrest in order to preach them a moral homily. But he spoke half in Spanish and the fellows did not understand a word. We have a regular band of thieves on board. Several watches have been stolen in the second-class cabin.

April 5. Naples. - Arrived at 2 P.M. Have had the police on board and a careful search made for stolen articles, but without result.

April 7. Genoa. - Left Naples at 4 P.M. yesterday with about five hundred immigrants, whom we are to transship here for South America. All well at home. The baby still knows me.