The League was of value to the American Legion at a time when certain of the lesser and looser newspapers were criticizing that organization of veterans of the Great War. One evening a number of young men raided the Zenith Socialist Headquarters, burned its records, beat the office staff, and agreeably dumped desks out of the window. All of the newspapers save the _Advocate-Times_ and the _Evening Advocate_ attributed this valuable but perhaps hasty direct-action to the American Legion. Then a flying squadron from the Good Citizens’ League called on the unfair papers and explained that no ex-soldier could possibly do such a thing, and the editors saw the light, and retained their advertising. When Zenith’s lone Conscientious Objector came home from prison and was righteously run out of town, the newspapers referred to the perpetrators as an “unidentified mob.” II In all the activities and triumphs of the Good Citizens’ League Babbitt took part, and completely won back to self-respect, placidity, and the affection of his friends. But he began to protest, “Gosh, I’ve done my share in cleaning up the city. I want to tend to business. Think I’ll just kind of slacken up on this G.C.L. stuff now.” He had returned to the church as he had returned to the Boosters’ Club. He had even endured the lavish greeting which Sheldon Smeeth gave him. He was worried lest during his late discontent he had imperiled his salvation. He was not quite sure there was a Heaven to be attained, but Dr. John Jennison Drew said there was, and Babbitt was not going to take a chance. One evening when he was walking past Dr. Drew’s parsonage he impulsively went in and found the pastor in his study. “Jus’ minute--getting ’phone call,” said Dr. Drew in business-like tones, then, aggressively, to the telephone: “’Lo--’lo! This Berkey and Hannis? Reverend Drew speaking. Where the dickens is the proof for next Sunday’s calendar? Huh? Y’ ought to have it here. Well, I can’t help it if they’re _all_ sick! I got to have it to-night. Get an A.D.T. boy and shoot it up here quick.” He turned, without slackening his briskness. “Well, Brother Babbitt, what c’n I do for you?” “I just wanted to ask-- Tell you how it is, dominie: Here a while ago I guess I got kind of slack. Took a few drinks and so on. What I wanted to ask is: How is it if a fellow cuts that all out and comes back to his senses? Does it sort of, well, you might say, does it score against him in the long run?” The Reverend Dr. Drew was suddenly interested. “And, uh, brother--the other things, too? Women?” “No, practically, you might say, practically not at all.” “Don’t hesitate to tell me, brother! That’s what I’m here for. Been going on joy-rides? Squeezing girls in cars?” The reverend eyes glistened. “No--no--”