It was hard to stop the laughter--it seemed so funny that a man who called himself a Socialist should be defending British battleships! But Comrade Gerrity, the chairman, pounded with his gavel, and insisted that the meeting should give fair play, that every speaker should be heard in his turn. So Norwood went on. He understood that no government in this world was perfect, but some were better than others, and it was a fact of history, whether or not they chose to admit it, that such freedom as had already been secured in the world--in Britain and Canada and Australia and New Zealand and the United States--had rested under the protection of British battleships. If those battleships went down, it would mean that every one of those free communities would begin building up a military force many times as strong as they had now. If the United States did not maintain the established customs of sea-commerce in the present crisis, it would mean one thing and one only--that America would spend the next thirty years devoting her energies to preparing for a life-and-death struggle with German Imperialism. If we were not to fight later, we must fight now-- “All right, you fight!” shouted Comrade Schneider, the brewer, his purple face more purple than ever before in the history of Local Leesville. “I'm going to fight all right,” answered the young lawyer. “This is my last speech here or anywhere else--I'm leaving for an officers' training-camp to-morrow. I have come here to do my duty, to warn you comrades--even though I know it will be in vain. The time for debate has passed--the country is going into war--” “I'm not going into war!” roared Schneider. “Be careful,” answered the other. “You may find yourself in before you know it.” And the big brewer laughed to shake the plaster off the walls. “I'd like to see them send me! To fight for the British sea-power! Ho! Ho! Ho!” IV It was a stormy speech young Norwood made, but he persisted to the end, so that, as he said, his conscience might be clear, he might know that he had done what he could to protect the movement from its greatest blunder. He warned them that the temper of the country was rising; you could see it rising hour by hour, and things which had been tolerated in the past would be tolerated no longer. Democracy would protect its life--it would show that in a crisis it was as strong as militarism-- “Yes, and turn itself into militarism to do it!” cried Comrade Mary Allen. The Quaker lady was almost beside herself; she, more even than the Germans, saw in what was transpiring the violation of her most sacred convictions.