In fact, if any man laid out a plan to perpetrate mischief, they would show themselves much more eager to carry it out than the men, and it always seemed a pleasure to the Anarchists to have them present. They were always invited to the “war dances.” Judge Gary, Mr. Grinnell, Mr. Bonfield and myself were usually remembered at these gatherings, and they fairly went wild whenever bloodthirsty sentiments were uttered against us. The reporters and the so-called capitalistic press also shared in the general denunciations. At one meeting, held on North Halsted Street, there were thirteen of these creatures in petticoats present, the most hideous-looking females that could possibly be found. If a reward of money had been offered for an uglier set, no one could have profited upon the collection. Some of them were pock-marked, others freckle-faced and red-haired, and others again held their snuff-boxes in their hands while the congress was in session. One female appeared at one of these meetings with her husband’s boots on, and there was another one about six feet tall. She was a beauty! She was raw-boned, had a turn-up nose, and looked as though she might have carried the red flag in Paris during the reign of the Commune. This meeting continued all right for about two hours. Then a rap came on the locked door. The guard reported that one of their cause desired admittance, giving his name at the same time,—and the new arrival was permitted to enter. He was a large man with a black beard and large eyes, and very shabbily dressed. He looked as though he had been driving a coal cart for a year without washing or combing. He also had the appearance of being on the verge of hydrophobia. As soon as he reached the interior of the hall he blurted out hastily, in a loud voice: “Ladies and brothers of our cause! Please stop all proceedings—I am out of breath—I will sit down for a few minutes.” All present looked at the man with a great deal of curiosity and patiently waited for him to recover his breath. The interval was about five minutes. Then the stranger jumped up and said: “I am from Jefferson. I ran all the way [a distance of five miles]. I was informed that you were holding a meeting here this evening, and that there is a spy in your midst.” At this bit of information every one became highly excited, and the stranger immediately proceeded to inquire if there was anyone they suspected. They all looked at each other, and, becoming satisfied that they were all friends of Anarchy, waited for the man to give them more precise information. The stranger then continued: “The man is described to me, and that is all I know.” He looked around for a moment and finally said, pointing to the man addressed: “If I am not damnably mistaken, you are the man!” At the same time he ordered the guard to lock the door and pull out the key.