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: