Of course, the tremendously expensive operations of so large a secret service organization could be met only by large-handed voluntary giving on the part of private citizens. For instance, the office rent alone of the A. P. L. in Chicago ran into thousands of dollars monthly. It was all carried by one public utility concern, the Commonwealth Edison Company, which turned over the needed space in a building which formerly housed its own offices. It is a part of the private history of the Department of Justice, scarcely if ever mentioned, that long before the idea of the American Protective League was broached—indeed, at the time when we had just severed diplomatic relations with Germany—Mr. Samuel Insull, afterward Chairman of the State Council of Defense for Illinois, called on Mr. Clabaugh and offered financial aid to the Bureau of Investigation. He said: “I know how meager your resources are, and I believe there is a lot of trouble not far ahead. Let me know if you need men or money, and I’ll see that you get both.” This, of course, had nothing to do with the later organization of the League, nor with the idea on which it is based, but Mr. Clabaugh always has said that Mr. Insull was the first private citizen to his knowledge to offer financial aid to the U. S. Government. The public has heard more of “D. J.” than it has of “A. P. L.” for obvious reasons. Of the two great office systems, one has been running for many years as a known part of the Federal Government. The other was two years old, and was always secret in its work and personnel. If it ever were a question of credit or “glory,” the palm must go and has gone to the Federal arm, because that is where the dénouements of cases had their home, and where publication of the printable facts originated. A. P. L. carried the evidence to the door of D. J. and stopped. It started cases, but did not finish them. The public never had more than a very vague idea of the workings of the vast duo-fold machine which held life and property in America so safe in the dangerous days of the war. For instance, the average man reading newspaper mention of Mr. Clabaugh’s activities as bureau head, usually thought of him as public prosecutor. He was not that. It was his duty, as it was the League’s duty, only to procure testimony. His work was not of the legal branch, and he himself never has been admitted to the bar, although he—with his auxiliary, A. P. L.—has won the largest and most stubbornly fought criminal cases in the history of the country, and is devoutly feared to-day by countless I. W. W.’s not yet arrested.