He did not see it, did not grasp the fact, but it was impossible that such men, riding on the crest of a gigantic wave of prosperity, should think far beyond themselves and the miracle that had made them what they were. They talked of the Mexican affair academically, as one talks of something in order to have something to talk about. They discussed the war with all the interest they would have shown in a championship prize-fight—and most of them with no deeper interest.... It was a world-spectacle arranged for the United States to sit by and watch—and derive immense profit from.
Here and there, fortunately, were men of broader vision, of abiding patriotism. One great manufacturer was taking a salutary step in insisting that every employee in his mammoth shops should be an American citizen; one was purchasing space in the newspapers of the country to advertise, not automobiles, but preparedness. One man had the very stationery of his firm inscribed with words which not only showed the world where he stood, but urged the world to step forth and do likewise.
Whatever advances had been made toward presenting a solid front, toward coherent thought, were due, not to something moving within, something spontaneous, some natural growth of patriotism, but to Germany. Germany was awakening America; Germany was America’s alarm-clock. Her propaganda, her bomb plots, her labor agitations, her arrogance, and her submarines were doing for America what America seemed unable to do for herself.... Germany, while willing quite another thing, was proving herself a friend to America; she was clumsily, bull-headedly, forcing America to think together and to the point; she was compelling America to think about America.... That way lay the path to patriotism.
Tom Watts and O’Mera sat at table with Potter one evening.
“Potter,” said Tom, “I’m beginning to think there’s something to this rigmarole you’ve been talking. This deal at the Mexican border has shown us up bad.... Something’s got to be done.... It got my goat, by Jove! that’s what it did. And I’ll tell you what I’m going to do—I’m going to Plattsburg this summer.”
Potter made no reply.
“It’s fierce, the state we’re in,” Tom went on. “Why, what the devil would happen if some regular nation landed an army on the coast—say a couple of hundred thousand men? By the time we got ready to fight the war’d be over with and we’d be cleaned up plenty.”
“You make me tired,” O’Mera said. “Potter with his aeroplanes, and now you with your Plattsburg.” He looked up and nodded across the room to Cantor. “Your snappy little friend is running around a lot with that man Cantor,” he said to Potter.
“Who do you mean?”
“The von Essen girl.... She wants to go easy with that boy—he plays marbles for keeps.... Rides with him, dances with him, eats with him. None of my damn business.”