way, too,” the man said. He seemed quite interested in the idea of making conversation. 35

“I will leave you for a minute.” The train was slowing up for Racine. His telegram was all ready except for the address. He rushed into the ticket office, added the address and had it sent collect, and had plenty of time to board the train.

“I wonder why,” thought Ted, “he should have to run into that station.” Ted’s suspicions were somewhat aroused. He decided to appear as if he had not taken note of the actions of his acquaintance.

Schmidt had underestimated the ability of the boy. He was so young, he thought, there was no necessity for special care.

Then, too, he was so very affable, so very simple. To his questions as to who would meet him Ted answered that he thought no one would, the time he was coming was a little uncertain, he added.

“No one is to meet me, either. Perhaps we can both go up home together, eh?”

“Sure,” replied the boy, “that would be fine.”

Ted fancied by now that the man was a German. But, then, he had that Danish newspaper. Maybe he was not. 36

“What do you do at your place—Wayland, I think you said?”

“I go to the Academy there. I belong to the Scouts—it is military and academic.” The boy was quite young and quite simple, Schmidt decided.

“Ah, that military business is bad, very bad. There will never be war anymore.”

Ted wondered if the man really believed it. He could not make up his mind. So they talked. The man grew less and less interested. He had made up his mind that the boy was really going to see his mother. Of course, that would be proven when they found out how much the mother knew about it and if she would meet the boy. Probably all this time had been wasted, but Schmidt had no regrets. After all, eternal vigilance was the watchword.

An hour later the train came into the station.

Ted, who had been quite tired, no longer felt any weariness. Here was Chicago, here was home.

As he stepped away from the train, his mother and sister ran forward. Two men 37 watched him from close by—one motioned to the other. O’Reilly went forward.

“My boy, are you looking for Mr. Strong?”

Helen interrupted: “Looking for Mr. Who? Why, of course he’s not—he’s my brother—I guess you are mistaken. Come, Ted, we are going home first.”

Ted did not question his sister; he knew there was method in her outburst. He added:

“Sorry, sir.”

“I’m so glad you came, Ted. How I hoped you would!” his mother said.

O’Reilly turned doubtfully, as the other man beckoned him away.

“Time lost,” said Schmidt. “Let them go. No harm done. I pumped the boy on the way; he had no secret, apparently. He is but a child.”

“I was scared by that girl,” replied O’Reilly musingly. “My, she’s a Tartar. All right, then, I’m tired and I’m going home. Good-night.”

“Good-night, my friend—see you tomorrow.” Schmidt watched him go. 38

“Say, sis, I did have to meet a Mr. Strong.” Ted spoke in a low voice.

“I know it, Ted, but that man was not he. When we get away somewhere I’ll tell you something about it.”

“Let’s go home. I’m crazy to be back here and it certainly feels fine.”

There were many eager questions on the way home. The mother listened with great pride to Ted’s account, even though he had told many of the same things in his letters.

Ted painted a great picture of his new home and it made Mrs. Marsh very happy for his sake, even though she wished a little longingly that both Helen and she could be a part of this wonderful and happy life.

Helen must have been thinking the same thing, for she spoke out:

“I wish mother and I could go out there. If there were only something I could do there. My work here is interesting, but I would gladly give it up for such an opportunity.”

“It’s all right, sis,” replied Ted. “It won’t be long before you will both be out 40 there. I wouldn’t want to stay myself if I did not feel sure of that.” They had reached their “L” station by now and home was only a matter of a few moments.

“I guess you are tired, Ted. But I think I had better tell you what Mr. Strong wants you to do.” Then Helen told him of her going down to see Mr. Strong, how the latter had reason to believe that there was to be a meeting of the Germans the very next night. He wanted to see Ted, who was to go to a certain number on Adams Street at eight the next morning. She gave him the number of the room. Ted was to wait until such time as Strong came. He might be late, for often there was difficulty in getting there unobserved. He would mention the word Dean and Helen for identification, should it be necessary.

Ted went to bed and slept the sleep of the just and the weary.

That next morning the newspapers printed in large headlines the ultimatum that Austria had put up to Servia. They speculated on the possibilities of war. To Ted—refreshed and no longer weary, reading the newspaper as he made his way downtown—it brought a feeling that he was in some way 41 involved. It made him feel quite important; it increased his respect for the men who had sent him to Chicago. It was big work these men were doing; he was having a share in it. He left the elevated station with some time on his hand. It seemed so long since he had been down here in the heart of Chicago. It came to Ted that it would always hold a warm spot in his affections. After all, it was here he had spent his childhood; it was to the knockabouts received here that he owed much. If only he could be successful, if only he could obtain the necessary information and be able to deliver the message to John Strong. Without knowing very much about it all, he realized that the things for him to do were important parts of it all. A little uncertainly, because the subject was a little too much for him, and he was still a very young boy, he speculated on why nations should go to war.

“Hello, Ted,” someone greeted him. It was Spot, the fellow with whom he had had that fight at the beginning of this story.

“Hello, Spot,” Ted greeted him cordially. He was glad to renew old acquaintances. “How’s business?”

“Fine,” answered Spot. “Lots of news, 42 lots of papers sold. What are you here for? Thought you went ’way out West?”

“I’m just paying a visit,” laughed Ted. “Seeing friends.” They talked for a few minutes.

“See you again, Spot. Is this your regular stand?”

“Sure is,” replied Spot, as he turned to a customer.

Ted went on his way. Very soon he reached the building on Adams street to which Helen had directed him. He turned in and when he came to the seventh floor he entered Room 701.

He accosted the man who looked up from a desk with:

“Want a boy?”

“Well, perhaps.” He sounded very English. “What is your name?”

“Theodore Marsh,” replied the owner of that name.

The man’s manner changed on the instant. Ted liked him then. “Come in, Ted. Mr. Strong is expected any minute, but of course he may not come for a while. We have just moved in here. We have to move 43 quite often, for those Germans certainly are shrewd. Quick, too, and they keep us on the jump.”

He