days before, he said, a clever attempt to get a man through had been defeated, partly by accident, for the fellow captured had had a genius for make-up. He had looked like a Latin. He had talked like one. On the long journey from South America he had hoodwinked the crew and all the passengers except one woman who had known him for years and who had penetrated his disguise. Still she had been friendly, and he had had unlimited confidence in his masquerade.
When the boat reached England he was one of the first hailed before the alien officer. He went jauntily because he knew his passport was in perfect order. The alien officer found it so, but he glanced suspiciously at the man and told him to stand aside for a few minutes. That was really only his compliance with recent orders to be careful with Spanish-Americans. As a matter of fact he suspected nothing out of the way. But the fellow hadn't forecasted anything like that. It appeared to threaten more than the fact. In a panic he scribbled a note requesting the woman not to speak to him in any language except Spanish.
When he slipped it to her the sharp eyes of the intelligence men saw. They drew the woman outside and got the note from her. They went back and took the man into custody. He laughed at
