A man stood up waving his arms: "All right! All right! The question is whether the sort of government we have is worth saving. You talk very flip about the Bolsheviki, but I'll tell you they'll run this country yet, and every other too, and run 'em to suit themselves! It's our turn; you've had your inning. Now, you'll get a dose of what you hand to us if we have to ram it down with a gun barrel!"

There was wild cheering from Kastner's men scattered about the hall; cries of "That's the stuff! Take away their dough! Kick 'em out of their Fifth Avenue castles and set 'em to digging subways!"

Ilse said calmly: "Thank you very much for proving my contention for all these people who have been so kind as to listen to me.

"I said to you that Bolshevism is merely a new and more immoral autocracy which wishes to confiscate all property, annihilate all culture and set up in the public places a new G.o.d--the G.o.d of Ignorance!

"You have been good enough to corroborate me. And I and my audience now know that Bolshevism is on its way to America, and that its agents are already here.

"It is in view of such a danger that this Combat Club has been organised. And it was time to organise it.

"It is evident, too, that the newspapers agree with us. Let us read you what one of them has to say:

"'We fully realise the atrocity of the Bolshevik propaganda, which is really the doctrine of communism and anarchy. We realise the perilous ferment which endangers civilisation. But in the countries which have held fast to moral standards during the war we believe the factors of safety are sufficiently great, the forces of sanity are far stronger than those of chaos----'"

Here, those whose role it was to interrupt with derisive laughter, broke out at a preconcerted signal. But Ilse read on:

"'In a word, as a mere matter of self-interest and common sense, we can only see the people, as a whole, in any country, as opposed to anarchy in any form. In our own land, even granted that there are a hundred thousand "red" agitators, or say a quarter of a million--and we have no real belief that this is so--what are these in a population of one hundred and five millions? Are the ninety and nine sane, moral, law abiding men and women going to allow themselves to be stampeded into ruin by a handful of criminals and lunatics?

"'We do not for a moment believe it. These agitators and incendiaries have a sort of maniacal impetus that fills the air with dust and noise and alarms the credulous. Perhaps it may be wise to counteract this with a little quiet promotion of ideas of safety and prosperity, based on order and law. It may be well to calm the nerves of the timorous and it can do no harm to set in motion a counter wave of horror and repulsion against those who are planning to lead the world back to conditions of tribal savagery. Educational work is always beneficent. Let us have much of that but no panic. The power of truth and reason is in calm confidence.'"

And now a bushy-headed man got on his feet and levelled his forefinger at Ilse: "Take shame for your-selluf!" he shouted. "I know you! You fought mit Korniloff! You took orders from Kerensky, from aristocrats, from cadets!"

Ilse said pleasantly. "I fought for Russia, my friend. And when the robbers and despoilers of Russia became the stronger, I took a vacation."

Some people laughed, but a harsh voice cried: "We know what you did.

You rescued the friend of the Romanoffs--that Carmelite nun up there on the platform behind you, who calls herself Miss Dumont!"

And from the other side of the hall another man bawled out: "You and the White Nun have done enough mischief. And you and your club had better get out of here while the going is good!"

Estridge, who was standing in the rear of the hall with Shotwell, came down along the aisle. Jim followed.

"Who said that?" he demanded, scanning the faces on that side while Shotwell looked among the seats beyond.

n.o.body said anything, for John Estridge stood over six feet and Jim looked physically very fit.

Estridge, standing in the aisle, said in his cool, penetrating voice:

"This club is a forum for discussion. All are free to argue any point.

Only swine would threaten violence.

"Now go on and argue. Say what you like. But the next man who threatens these ladies or this club with violence will have to leave the hall."

"Who'll put him out?" piped an unidentified voice.

Then the two young men laughed; and their mirth was not rea.s.suring to the violently inclined.

There were disturbances during the evening, but no violence, and only a few threats--those that made them remaining in prudent incognito.

Miss Thane made a serene, precise and perfectly logical address upon birth control.

Somebody yelled that the millionaires didn't have to resort to it, being already sufficiently sterile to a.s.sure the dwindling of their cla.s.s.

A woman rose and said she had always done what she pleased in the matter, law or no law, but that if it were true the Bolsheviki in America were but a quarter of a million to a hundred million of the bourgeoisie, then it was time to breed and breed to the limit.

"And let the kids starve?" cried another woman--a mere girl. "That isn't the way. The way to do is to even things with a hundred million hand grenades!"

Instantly the place was in an uproar; but Palla came forward and said that the meeting was over, and Estridge and Shotwell and two policemen kept the aisles fairly clear while the wrangling audience made their way to the street.

"Aw, it's all lollipop!" said a man. "What d' yeh expect from a bunch of women?"

"The Red Flag Club is better," rejoined another. "Say, bo! There's somethin' doin' when Sondheim hands it out!"

Ilse went away with Estridge. Palla came along among the other women, and turned aside to offer her hand to Jim.

"Did you expect to take me home?" she asked demurely.

"Didn't you expect me to?" he inquired uneasily.

"I? Why should I?" She slipped her arm into his with a little nestling gesture. "And it's a very odd thing, Jim, that they left the chafing dish on the table. And that before she went to bed my waitress laid covers for two."

CHAPTER XVI

"Are you worried about this Dumont girl?" asked Shotwell Senior abruptly.

His wife did not look up from her book. After an interval:

"Yes," she said, "I am."

Her husband watched her over the top of his newspaper.

"I can't believe there's anything in it," he said. "But it's a shame that Jim should worry you so."

"He doesn't mean to."

"Probably he doesn't, but what's the difference? You're unhappy and he's the reason of it. And it isn't as though he were a cub any longer, either. He's old enough to know what he's about. He's no w.i.l.l.y Baxter."

"That is what makes me anxious," said Helen Shotwell. "Do you know, dear, that he hasn't dined here once this week, yet he seems to go nowhere else--nowhere except to her."

"What sort of woman is she?" he demanded, wiping his eyegla.s.ses as though preparing to take a long-distance look at Palla.