He was relieved when he put Tanis on a trolley; he was cheerful in the familiar simplicities of his office.

At four o’clock Vergil Gunch called on him.

Babbitt was agitated, but Gunch began in a friendly way: 

“How’s the boy?  Say, some of us are getting up a scheme we’d kind of like to have you come in on.”

“Fine, Verg.  Shoot.”

“You know during the war we had the Undesirable Element, the Reds and walking delegates and just the plain common grouches, dead to rights, and so did we for quite a while after the war, but folks forget about the danger and that gives these cranks a chance to begin working underground again, especially a lot of these parlor socialists.  Well, it’s up to the folks that do a little sound thinking to make a conscious effort to keep bucking these fellows.  Some guy back East has organized a society called the Good Citizens’ League for just that purpose.  Of course the Chamber of Commerce and the American Legion and so on do a fine work in keeping the decent people in the saddle, but they’re devoted to so many other causes that they can’t attend to this one problem properly.  But the Good Citizens’ League, the G. C. L., they stick right to it.  Oh, the G. C. L. has to have some other ostensible purposes—­frinstance here in Zenith I think it ought to support the park-extension project and the City Planning Committee—­and then, too, it should have a social aspect, being made up of the best people—­have dances and so on, especially as one of the best ways it can put the kibosh on cranks is to apply this social boycott business to folks big enough so you can’t reach ’em otherwise.  Then if that don’t work, the G. C. L. can finally send a little delegation around to inform folks that get too flip that they got to conform to decent standards and quit shooting off their mouths so free.  Don’t it sound like the organization could do a great work?  We’ve already got some of the strongest men in town, and of course we want you in.  How about it?”

Babbitt was uncomfortable.  He felt a compulsion back to all the standards he had so vaguely yet so desperately been fleeing.  He fumbled: 

“I suppose you’d especially light on fellows like Seneca Doane and try to make ’em—­”

“You bet your sweet life we would!  Look here, old Georgie:  I’ve never for one moment believed you meant it when you’ve defended Doane, and the strikers and so on, at the Club.  I knew you were simply kidding those poor galoots like Sid Finkelstein....  At least I certainly hope you were kidding!”

“Oh, well—­sure—­Course you might say—­” Babbitt was conscious of how feeble he sounded, conscious of Gunch’s mature and relentless eye.  “Gosh, you know where I stand!  I’m no labor agitator!  I’m a business man, first, last, and all the time!  But—­but honestly, I don’t think Doane means so badly, and you got to remember he’s an old friend of mine.”

“George, when it comes right down to a struggle between decency and the security of our homes on the one hand, and red ruin and those lazy dogs plotting for free beer on the other, you got to give up even old friendships.  ‘He that is not with me is against me.’”