Then turning to another man, the one who had parked his car around the corner, the organizer says, “Phil, how are things coming at the plant? Making any progress on getting Bill installed as shop steward?” “No, not much. Things look pretty bad.” The man shifts his legs. He is a big fellow, weighing over two hundred pounds. “Looks like we’re blocked.” “Nonsense,” snaps the organizer, “we’ve gone over that before. There’s always a way. Communists never give up. You’ve got things good. You’re at home enjoying life. Remember Lenin, exiled from Russia, going from town to town. He didn’t quit, and look what he did. He was a genius. What’s the big problem, Phil?” “It’s Red, the union president. He knows Bill is a communist and he’s fighting him. Red is smart, he knows the ropes. He’s always been a hard worker for labor unions. He’s got a clean record and he’s liked by the members. As long as Red is president, we’re in a bad fix.” “That’s the wrong attitude, Phil. If one thing won’t work, try another. Can’t we accuse him of something? Have you gone over his past life? Hasn’t he ever done anything wrong?” “If he has, we can’t find it. He’s a straight shooter from ’way back and he really hates communists.” “Phil, this is your Number One assignment,” the organizer says. “You get something on Red. He’s got to be discredited. Maybe we can make up some letters, mail them in another city, accuse him of working against the union. You figure out the details.” The organizer goes around the circle to the other members. Are they carrying out their assignments? Ethel, the draftsman’s wife, thinks she will soon be elected an officer in a downtown women’s group. “Wonderful,” says the organizer. “Don’t rush things too fast but try to get some of the women to write letters to Washington. Let them say the FBI is a Gestapo; that they’re violating civil liberties by arresting Party leaders. That’s good, Ethel.” “They haven’t the slightest idea I’m a communist.” She laughs. “I’m working hard at it.” The other woman, the last one to arrive, reports her activities as secretary of a communist-front organization. The organizer, wanting the meeting to be short, speaks a few words about “new things” in the Party: A pamphlet from national headquarters has just been received and should be bought by all; finances are not in good shape; a new Party school is going to be held next month. Ethel should attend. Shortly after nine o’clock the meeting is over, and as quietly as they have come the members slip out into the night. This Communist Party club is representative of many hundreds throughout the nation. Night after night, week after week, these men and women are plotting against America, working out smears, seeking to discredit free government, and planning for revolution. They form the base of a gigantic pyramid of treason, stretching from the little gray house with green shutters to the towers of the Kremlin. The Communist Constitution (18th version, 1957)