I remembered entering that building the day before. He contended that I had been the only person other than himself and his family to enter the building. The officer explained that my accuser had found the watch missing the morning before. He told me that I was accused of burglarizing an apartment and carrying off a valuable heirloom watch.
“Why am I being arrested?” I asked the policeman. I apologized to the woman and told her I would return later. “You’re under arrest.”Īstounded, I tried to keep my composure. “You will have to come with me,” he said quietly. To my astonishment, he dropped a heavy hand on my shoulder and turned me around to face him. I continued to talk, believing he had business with someone upstairs.
Many people in Germany at that time distrusted the missionaries, so I didn’t give it much thought.Īs I spoke with a woman at the doorway to a nearby apartment, I heard someone coming up behind me. He was glaring malevolently in my direction. In those days, missionaries did not have to work side by side constantly, and often I would tract one side of the street while my companion tracted the other.Īs I walked toward the next house, I saw a man sitting on a chair near the sidewalk. On 25 July 1928, I was tracting on a street in Heilbronn, Germany.
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