“What we need is men who have been overseas, preferably officers, in order to get the soldiers interested in it.”
Robert looked at the row of questions on the card. Was his motive in answering serious? His age, occupation, birthplace, length of local residence and so forth.
“This is worse than an income tax questionnaire,” laughed Robert. “They want to know the color of my hair and eyes, where my parents were born, and my religion. Well, that’s easy enough. But what’s the idea of asking my politics?”
Pinkney smiled. “Oh, some of the questions, I suppose, aren’t really necessary. But we wish to be absolutely exclusive. Suppose a man should answer that he was a Socialist or an Anarchist?”
“Why in the devil would an Anarchist want to join the Trick Track Tribe? He’s opposed to all government. Why should he pay dues to belong to a sort of feudal government, according to the way Griffith outlined it?”
“Well, he might—I suppose he really wouldn’t, but that really isn’t it. Oh, you’ll find out after you join.”
Robert had been asked to join other secret organizations. In every case there had been a certain air of mystery about it and a great to do about selecting only persons of a high level for membership, and, although he had joined only the exclusive Corinth Club, he had always suspected that the mysteriousness and air of exclusiveness of the others had been maintained principally with a view to making membership seem more difficult and hence more desirable. A few questions struck his attention, however, as he jotted down his answers:
“Were your parents born in the United States of America?
“Are you a Gentile or a Jew?
“Do you believe in the principles of Pure Americanism?