The enemy did not pass in Chicago, nor in New York, nor in San Francisco, nor in any place between. Not prepared—a whole nation in shirtsleeves at the plow—we became prepared. We fought with one hand, while, with the other, we buttoned on the new tunic for which we had not yet been measured, and in Army, Navy, Aviation, Intelligence, Supply, Motor Transport and Department of Justice, we learned as we fought—and won. The organization of the American Protective League reveals a curious phase of life in this republic. It could not have taken place in any other country of the world. “A word as to the Chicago organization is in order,” says the writer of this first report of D. J. on A. P. L. “The work of the League was presumed to be to report matters of a disloyal nature that came to the attention of the members and to see that they were brought to the attention of the proper Government officials. However, the work of the agents of the Bureau itself increased so rapidly at this time that it was a physical impossibility for the small number to handle the same, and by degrees members of the League who showed aptitude for the work were called upon to assist the agents of the Bureau. _Gradually, more and more work was thrown on the League until practically all complaints coming to the Bureau by mail were turned over to the League for them to investigate._” If, during the later months of the war, you had visited the Department of Justice in the Federal Building in Chicago, you would have found extensive and well-equipped offices, ably manned and humming with activity. Yet the Chicago department, though large in personnel and efficient in administration, was greatly overworked in this hotbed of pro-German and enemy spy activity. After leaving the Federal Building, let us say, you had also decided to visit the headquarters of the volunteer organization in Chicago. Less than a block away from the federal offices, in a stately building given over entirely to the housing of organizations whose sole aim and purpose was the winning of the war, you would have found a set of offices as large, as well equipped, as full of filed records, and of as able a personnel as those of the U. S. bureau. There would be this difference: the latter offices—those of the American Protective League—were run by men who got no pay—and there were almost one hundred times as many of them as there were of the D. J. workers. Yet the two great organizations are parts of the same system, and have worked together in perfect harmony and mutual benefit. Together, they have held German crime and espionage helpless in Chicago all through the war.