chanting and oath taking and hosanna hailing, all of it top secret, made it that much more appealing. Kennedy also found the Klan to be a slick money-making opera- tion, at least for those near the top of the organization. Klan leaders had any number of revenue sources: thousands of dues-paying rank- and-file members; business owners who hired the Klan to scare off the unions or who paid the Klan protection money; Klan rallies that generated huge cash donations; even the occasional gunrunning or moonshine operation. Then there were rackets like the Klans Death     Benefit Association, which sold insurance policies to Klan members and accepted only cash or personal checks made out to the Grand Dragon himself. After just a few weeks inside the Klan, Kennedy was eager to hurt it any way he could. When he heard about Klan plans for a union- busting rally, he fed the information to a union friend. He passed along Klan information to the assistant attorney general of Georgia, an established Klan buster. After researching the Klans corporate charter, Kennedy wrote to the governor of Georgia suggesting the grounds upon which the charter should be revoked: the Klan had been designated a non-profit, non-political organization, but Ken- nedy had proof that it was clearly devoted to both profits and politics. None of Kennedys efforts produced the desired effect. The Klan was so entrenched and broad-based that Kennedy felt as if he were tossing pebbles at a giant. And even if he could somehow damage the Klan in Atlanta, the thousands of other chapters around the country-the Klan was by now in the midst of a serious revival- would go untouched. Kennedy was supremely frustrated, and out of this frustration was born a stroke of brilliance. He had noticed one day a group of young boys playing some kind of spy game in which they exchanged silly se- cret passwords. It reminded him of the Klan. Wouldnt it be nice, he