It was useless. Angela’s shrill voice rose in an endless chorus of protest.

Benda threw up his hands in surrender and re-entered the store. Meyer angrily turned on his heel and crossed the street to see Schultz, the delicatessen man on the opposite corner.

Schultz proved impossible from the first. His jovial face was wreathed in smiles but his voice was firm in its deep mumbling undertone.

“No—mein frient—no more drill for me—I fight no more except for the flag dot give me mein freedom and mein home!”

The two men held each other’s gaze in a moment of dramatic tension. The menace in Meyer’s voice was unmistakable as he answered:

“I’ll see you again!”

CHAPTER IV

JOHN VASSAR’S triumphant return to his home on Stuyvesant Square, after the introduction of his sensational bill in Congress, was beset with domestic complications. Congratulations from his father, nieces, and Wanda had scarcely been received before the trouble began.

“But you must hear Miss Holland!” Zonia pleaded.

John Vassar shook his head.

“Not tonight, dear—”

“I’d set my heart on introducing you. Ah, Uncy dear—please! She’s the most eloquent orator in America—”

“That’s why I hate her and all her tribe—”

A rosy cheek pressed close to his.

“Not all her tribe—”

“My Zonia—no—but I could wring her neck for leading a chick of your years into her fool movement—”

“But she didn’t lead me, Uncy dear, I just saw it all in a flash while she was speaking—my duty to my sex and the world—”

“Duty to your sex! What do you know about duty to your sex?—you infant barely out of short dresses! Your hair ought to be still in braids. And it was all my fault. I let you out of the nursery too soon—”

He paused and looked at her wistfully.

“And I promised your father’s spirit the day you came to us here that I’d guard you as my own—you and little Marya. I haven’t done my duty. I’ve been too busy with big things to realize that I was neglecting the biggest thing in the world. You’ve slipped away from me, dear—and I’m heartsick over it. Maybe I’ll be in time for Marya—you’re lost at eighteen—”

“Marya’s joined our Club too—”

“A babe of twelve?”

“She’s going to be Miss Holland’s page in the suffrage Pageant—”

John Vassar groaned, laid both hands on the girl’s shoulders and rose abruptly.

“Now, Zonia, it’s got to stop here and now. I’m not going to allow this brazen Amazon—”

His niece broke into a fit of laughter.

“Brazen Amazon?”

“That’s what I said. This brazen Amazon is my enemy—”

The girl lifted her finger laughingly.

“But you’re not afraid of her? John Vassar, a descendant of old Yan Vasa in whose veins ran the royal blood of Poland—ten years in Congress from this big East Side district—the idol of the people—chairman of the National House Committee on Military Affairs”—she paused and her voice dropped to the tensest pride—“my candidate for governor of New York—you positively won’t go to the meeting in Union Square tonight?” she added quietly.

“Positively—”

“Then, Uncy dear, I’ll have to deliver the message—”

She drew a crumpled note from her bosom and handed it to him without a word.

He broke the seal and read with set lips: