CHAPTER II
PLANS ARE MADE TO MEET TED
In a room in one of the West Side streets of Chicago, in an old-fashioned office building, which also rented rooms to lodges and societies, eight men were engaged in earnest conversation.
“You are wrong, O’Reilly,” said one of them. “England will not dare come into it. There are men in England who would want the country to war against my land. But the powers that be, and the people, too, will be against it.”
“I hate England, Berman,” said O’Reilly. “There are Irishmen who are willing to lick the hand that has beaten them and has held them in subjection, but they are not true sons of Erin. I am against England, but I do not despise the English as you Germans do. Once they are aroused, mark my words, slow as they may be at the start, they will 25 be a mighty force.” His eyes flashed. “Many people call me a traitor, but Ireland, not England, is my country, and all Irishmen should be against the country that holds it slave.
“But to business, gentlemen. Will you, Mr. Schmidt, explain the call for this meeting?”
“That I will,” answered he who had been addressed. “There are two things for us to take up—the less important first. I have a telegram from our good friend Pfeffer up in Wayland, in Alberta, Canada, where he is doing our work, but is presumably a German instructor. Ah, here it is—”
He drew out the coded wire that Pfeffer had sent. “I have figured out the code and it reads as follows: