Her eyes brimmed with tears when she thought of how things had changed. Mike was lying wounded in France, and she was involved in other interests. Becoming an adult was often filled with loss and pain. She sighed. There was little chance they would ever recapture those carefree fishing days.

She propped the letter on the hall table where her mother and Sarah would be certain to see it. With a sad weariness she went up to her room to work on the note cards.

In the next few weeks Laura was involved in the Banner Campaign, which consisted of picketing the Senate and especially the thirty-four senators who had voted against the amendment.

On Saturday she, along with Cassie and other suffragists, marched to the Capitol.

She glanced at Cassie, feeling a deep commitment to her country and the women with whom she marched. The impressive white dome with its many columns representing states of the union and the Goodness of Freedom crowning the cupola all made her tingle with pride.

They mounted the steps with the banner held between, each girl holding a wooden support. The columns surrounding them and the marble entrance were splendors Laura had forgotten. Perhaps she should return to her dream of becoming an architect.

Quietly she and Cassie stood atop the steps as men and women passed, some stopping to read their banner and others pointedly ignoring them. Dressed in her wine-colored suit, Cassie was the epitome of grace, while Laura, in the bulky navy sweater and skirt, made quite a contrast. Still, their yellow sashes indicated they were of one mind!

All at once the heavy brass doors were flung wide, and a number of office boys came whooping and hollering as they descended on Cassie and Laura like yapping prairie dogs. Their banner was torn from their hands and ripped to pieces.

"Cassie!" she shouted. "Run!"

But Cassie had plastered herself against a white column and looked like a martyr to the cause. In the meantime Laura picked up a wooden support, brandishing it back and forth like a baseball bat. Just let them attack, she thought. She’d give them such a lump on the head that they’d not soon forget the Women’s Party!

As quickly as the boys had dashed among the suffragists, wrested signs, and shredded them, they disappeared. The boys no sooner were gone, however, when the police came and herded the women inside.

Through the rotunda, the huge, circular hall, the eight women were taken, then ordered into the guard room.

They were detained about fifteen minutes and then released.

When they emerged into the sunlight, more banners and more suffragists had already taken their place.

"Oh, Cassie," Laura said fervently. "I wish we could stand on top of the dome with our banners for all Washington to see!"

Cassie laughed. "The Senate would have to pay attention then!"

Suddenly Laura grasped Cassie’s arm. "I have an idea. Let’s smuggle a banner into the Senate. We’ll unfurl it from the visitors' balcony!"

Cassie shot her an astonished look. "Laura! We wouldn’t dare!" But there was an impish gleam in her dancing eyes.

"Well," Laura said excitedly, "are you game?"

For a second Cassie said nothing. Then she brought her hands together in a sharp clap. "Let’s do it!" she answered firmly.

Chapter Twenty-five

On the way to Cassie’s house Laura stopped at the Menotti’s store.

When the bell jangled, Aldo glanced up and nodded in her direction, but his big smile was missing as he went back to slicing mozzarella cheese for an older woman. His broad face drooped, including his mustache. Laura looked around but didn’t see Bertina. Any minute she’d probably come from the back room with a tray of cookies.

After the customer had left Laura said, "It’s quiet this morning. Aren’t you lucky, no Joe or Bertina around to argue with," she teased.

Aldo didn’t respond with his usual bellow. He didn’t even smile. In a helpless gesture he threw out his hands. "Bertina sick. Last night. This morning." He rubbed his forehead. "I tell her stay in bed. The doctor he come this afternoon."

Her pulse jerked. Immediately she thought of the flu. "It’s not serious, is it?"

"No. No." He placed his hands over his large stomach. "She sick here, that’s all." But before he turned to lift a glass canister from the shelf, she noticed a worried frown on his face.

He held out the peppermint sticks to her. "Take, take," he urged.

"Thank you," she said, tucking the peppermint candy in her pocket. "I’m sure Bertina will be fine. I’ll stop in to see her this afternoon." She paused. "Is Joe coming home tomorrow?" She knew that October twenty-second was the date but hoped he didn’t have a change of plans.

"Tomorrow," Aldo reiterated. "I miss Joe." Then, lest she think he was too softhearted, he grinned. "I need my son to sack onions and potatoes. Sweep floor."

"Of course," she said, a twinkle in her eye.

Aldo eyed her black suit and black stockings. "All dressed fancy?" His thick eyebrows lifted in a question.

"Yes," she responded brightly, pleased that he had noticed her short jacket and matching skirt, for she had taken special pains in dressing. In her black and white polka-dot blouse with the saucy tie, she felt pert and glowing. "Cassie and I are going to the Senate this morning."

"More picketing, eh?" His eyes took on a mischievous glint.

Nodding, she said quickly, "I’ve got to hurry and meet her. We mustn’t be late for the opening session." Hiding her secret behind a smile, she wheeled about and, with a wave, was gone. Never would she tell Aldo her plot. He would be horrified. No one should do anything bad against this great country, he would say. Well, what she and Cassie planned wasn’t bad, she told herself, swinging up Fishing Lane, but it was electrifying! The rolled banner was heavy, and they carried it between them into the Rotunda. The magnificent paintings and the many bronze and marble statues thrilled Laura. In her eyes the most overpowering statue was the marble likeness of a standing, pensive Abraham Lincoln sculpted by Vinnie Ream, an eighteen-year-old woman. She paused before Lincoln, giving the sixteenth president a snappy salute. "Government of the people, by the people, and for the people," she murmured. "We’re getting there, Abe."

"Laura! Hush!" Cassie hissed. "Do you want to be thrown out before we even get inside the chamber?"

Laura grinned. "All right. I’ll behave." As they walked down the corridor, painted with vivid blues, reds, and greens, they passed on either wall frescoes of animals, birds, and flowers, but Laura could only see the line forming behind the silken cords. "Hurry, Cassie."

The two guards, stern and forbidding, waited for the bell before they lifted the cord and swung wide the heavy doors to the Visitor’s Gallery.

Shifting their heavy burden, easy to smuggle in because it was wrapped in an American flag, they rushed along the star-studded pattern on the blue carpet and down the stairs to obtain a front-row seat.

Spectators dashed in after them, but Laura and Cassie threw themselves into a seat. Carefully they placed the banner under the seats until they were ready.

With their arms resting on the railing they watched the senators come in and sit at their desks. One hundred desks were on the floor, the Democrats on one side and the Republicans on the other. Pages scurried back and forth with messages or to place pads and pencils on each desk.

Finally, Vice-President Marshall came in, rapping his gavel on the podium. Once there was silence, he called on the chaplain to open the session with a prayer. Senators stood and bowed their heads, but once the prayer was finished, the chamber went back to noisy confusion.

After watching the proceedings for ten minutes, Laura clutched Cassie’s wrist. "There he is! Senator Shields! The old buzzard!" she whispered close to Cassie’s ear. "Let’s get the banner ready!"

They bent over, loosened the cord around the middle, then tied the end cords to the bolted-down chair legs. Laura glanced around, but the people were giving their rapt attention to the senator from Iowa.

"Go fast!" Laura muttered, hefting the banner up onto the balustrade. From the corner of her eye she saw a guard sprinting down the aisle.

"Now!" she shouted, and with a flourish, the girls unleashed the huge white, purple, and gold banner. The large black letters emblazoned across read: VOTES FOR WOMEN!

All at once a whole battery of guards bore down upon them, but not before they yelled in unison, "Senators! Don’t delay the Women’s Amendment!"

The startled senators, goggle-eyed, stared up at them. They were pointing, gesticulating, and sputtering when they noticed the banner swaying above their heads. A number of men applauded but others shook their fists.

"You vixens!" a burly guard shouted. Two guards, each one grabbing Laura’s arm, dragged her up the aisle.

The guards pulled so hard on her arms that she kept back her tears with difficulty. With blazing eyes and a rage boiling up inside, she viciously kicked one sharply in the shin, causing a sharp yelp of pain.

Cassie, too, fought her captors, but it wasn’t any use. They were dragged and shoved into the Senate’s Guard Room. Laura’s guard pushed her into a high-backed chair where she sat, glaring at him.

Not knowing what would happen next, she wasn’t too surprised when the door was flung open and in strode Colonel Ridley.

The short, dapper man was furious, his face a contorted red blotch. "You dare to interrupt Senate proceedings!" he thundered. "I’ll send you to prison on treason charges!"

Laura glimpsed Cassie’s calm face and wondered if underneath she were as frightened as she was. Treason! Her blood chilled at the thought. That was an offense punishable by death!

Colonel Ridley paced back and forth, every once in a while stopping to confront them, ranting and raving at them for what seemed like hours.

A guard opened the door. "Excuse me, sir. The vice-president."

Colonel Ridley replaced his glower with a sober, calm expression and straightened his shoulders.

William Marshall brushed hurriedly past the guard.

Laura sat stunned. The vice-president of the United States!

The vice-president, however, scarcely glanced at them as he conferred in low tones with the colonel.

The colonel’s face reddened, but he nodded his head and said, "Yes, sir, right away, sir."

Mr. Marshall departed, leaving Colonel Ridley staring at them for a moment. Then he spat out the words, "You’re free to go."

"Free to…" Laura gasped.

"You heard me!" the colonel snarled.

"But, why?" Cassie asked, as puzzled as Laura.

The colonel’s face flushed angrily. "The vice-president says they don’t want any more publicity than necessary about your incident." He glowered at them. "If I had my way I’d throw you in the nearest cell for twenty years!" In disgust he turned his back on them and shouted, "Guards!"

Two soldiers immediately appeared.

"Escort these two radicals out of here."

"Yes, sir." They smartly saluted and walked the girls into the hall, through the Rotunda, and out onto the marble steps.

As they walked down the mall, Cassie and Laura couldn’t believe their fantastic luck.

Laura giggled. "I wonder if our banner is still waving in the Senate Chamber."

"I imagine it was ripped down about two seconds after we were forced out," Cassie said dryly. "Laura," she said thoughtfully, "do you think Miss Paul will be angry with us?"

"I’m afraid she might, but if we had waited for her permission we’d never have done it!"

But Miss Paul was not angry. In fact, she was pleased at their bold move. However, she did admonish them not to do it again, for they would need all their energy for the upcoming October thirty-first demonstration in front of the Senate.

The next day Joe came home, and she dreaded to face him, for his mother was very sick with the flu. Poor Bertina! Yesterday when she went up to visit her, Aldo had barred the door, shaking his head helplessly.

"Bertina has flu," he said gruffly. "You go home."