ated 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 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, 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 quite often,
for those Germans certainly are shrewd. Quick, too, and they keep us
on the jump."

He turned to work on an intricate little machine which had a long coil
of wire, very thin, much thinner than a telephone wire.

"Do you know what this is?" Ted did not know.

"A dictaphone. We