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 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 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 will have use for it. I am getting it ready for tonight.”

Ted had heard of a dictaphone, but he had not yet learned its usefulness. He was to find out that night how wonderfully useful it could be, how much danger the use of it would avoid.

It was almost two hours before a man entered. When he saw Ted he said, with a smile:

“Hello, my boy. I guess you and I have met both Dean and Helen, haven’t we? Let us go into this room.”

Ted delivered the papers he had brought for Strong. Strong took them eagerly and just as eagerly Ted gave them up. He heaved a sigh of relief at getting rid of them.

“This paper alone,” Strong picked up one of the papers from his desk, where he had placed them, “if trouble should come, would prove to the United States Government what the Germans are doing in the States and just how it affects Canada. Without this it would be disagreeable to be found doing some of the things we find ourselves compelled to do. I see, also, that this letter says that I may count on your help. We will need it, I am sure.

“Tonight, the Germans are to hold a meeting. The purpose and decision reached there we must know at all costs. We must go down there, you and Walker and I. Walker is the man in the office. He has the necessary knowledge to place a dictaphone or tap a telephone wire. Also, he, another man named Bronson, and I have already made arrangements for placing that dictaphone at the Germans’ meeting-place.”

He turned to Walker. “Are you ready?”

“In about five minutes,” replied Walker, with a grin.

While they were waiting Strong suddenly thought of something.

“As I understand am I right? you were a newsboy up to a year ago?”

“Yes, sir, I was,” answered Ted.

“Good. Do you think you could manage to fix yourself up as one and meet us in front of the Auditorium?”

“I think I can,” replied the boy, after a moment’s thought.

“All right, I’ll give you forty-five minutes,” Strong said, as he turned to Walker, who was now ready.

Quickly, Ted located Spot.

“I’ll tell you what I’ll do, Spot,” he confided to the news merchant. “I’ll give you two dollars and my clothes for your clothes and papers. I want you to have a share in my good fortune and I also want to sell papers for awhile.”

Spot grinned delight. “You mean it, Ted?”

“Sure. Where can we change?”

“Any place will suit me. But I’ll show you a place. That’s easy.”

A place was very easily located. Spot had managed to wash his hands and face, while Ted’s had not yet gotten to the color they should be. They had exchanged everything from shoes to hats.

“Where are you going now, Spot?” asked Ted.

“I beg your pardon,” replied Spot. “My name is Mr. James Sullivan. I would have you address your betters properly, boy.” He never cracked a smile as he walked off, but Ted laughed uproariously.

A little later two men came out of the Auditorium.

“Paper, sir, papers?”

“No,” answered one of them. The other took a second look at the newsboy and laughed. “He certainly fooled you, Strong. It’s Ted.”

“Good work, Ted,” Strong said, with appreciation.

“Slip into that automobile while we stand in front of it.” They walked toward it. “Now, quick.” The machine was off to the German meeting-place.