"But what kind of a government is it that cannot control its people? Do you suppose our Kaiser would tolerate that kind of weakness? For the sake of the United States, Otto, you ought to help teach this people what a strong nation really is. If this country expects to live she must learn to obey--learn that masters are necessary. What's she doing now?--taking the bit in her teeth--thinking and doing what she pleases. She's elected a President to do her thinking and she won't follow him--forces him to do what his judgment is against." "What do you mean?" "Why, those notes. Wilson would never have written them if he hadn't been afraid of the people. He's too wise." "You're wrong, Max. Wilson thinks just as Sabinsport does and he's doing a thing the country will back up." "They won't have a chance long. Germany's patience is failing. We'll attend to that. If they insist, they'll get--Otto, you know as well as I do that there won't be a plant left in this country soon to make munitions if they insist, and there won't be a vessel on the seas to carry them. We'll take care of that. You know we can do it. Why, there's not a factory in the States that our people are not in, and there's not a vessel out that we can't split. We're giving them a chance--appealing to their own fool sentiments. 'Love peace?' Well, take peace--don't love peace and talk hatred of Germany. 'Hate money made from munitions?' Well, that's easy; don't make 'em. We're only giving them their own dope, Otto, and they refuse to stand by their own faith. Hypocrites! English! If they won't take a Labor's Peace Council, you can be sure they'll get a first-class explosion party--and that right soon." "See here, Max, I can't follow anything like that. I'm willing to educate my country, but I won't revenge her because she refuses my teaching. Cut it out." The ruddy blond face of Otto Littman's companion wore usually the gentlest of smiles--the few who had ever met him in Sabinsport thought him a harmless man, devoted to his laboratory--talking little, playing his piano often late after a busy day's hard work, friendly to little children, troubling nobody. "Never had a better man," said Cowder, who almost daily visited the laboratory and listened to his explanations of difficulties both physical and chemical and how they could be overcome--watched his ingenious experiments, discussed long with him future developments. "German parentage--born here," he had told Cowder. He never talked of the war more than to say sadly, "It's bad business." Cowder and the children who ran to him on the street at night would not have recognized him now as he leaned over Otto Littman--his blue eyes glittering like steel points, his lips drawn back until two full rows of white teeth showed--they would not have known the voice with its hateful sneer.