fifteen

“Zeb!” Faith cried out.

I gasped, as did those around me. Had Elizabeth survived the attack?

Zeb, at least, was fine. He wrested the gun out of the man’s hand as he lay face down. Zeb put his knee on the older man’s back, but the fellow had a lot of bulk to him and he struggled mightily. Where had that blasted police officer gone?

“Come on,” Bertie said. We ran to Zeb, with Faith following. Zula must have had the same idea because she arrived at the same time. Bertie stomped on one of the attacker’s hands and he cried out. She planted her foot on his wrist. I stepped forward onto his calf, kneeling and leaning my forearms onto my knee.

Zula knelt on the man’s other arm, which was good, because Bertie was such a peanut I doubted her weight was much of a deterrent. Frannie ran up and anchored the fellow’s other leg. Faith looked unsure as to what to do. She watched, her brow knit, with her arms by her sides, pencil and paper grasped in one hand.

“Men, help me here,” the attacker called out, his voice half muffled by the cheek resting on the cobblestones.

“You let go there, miss.” One of the would-be assassin’s companions reached for my arm.

Guy Gilbert rushed up. “Hands off the lady, mister,” he ordered. “You,” he addressed the four men. “Sit down on the ground over there. Right now.” He brandished a billy club as his fellow officer finally strolled up. “Guard them, officer.”

The bullies frowned and muttered but did as he asked. “We didn’t do nothing,” one snarled.

“I saw the whole thing. It sure looked like you were about to,” Guy replied. “Ladies, you can stand down now.” He tried and failed to keep a grin off his face at the sight of his four new lady assistants.

Bertie looked relieved. I knew the man could have grabbed her ankle and flipped her onto the ground if he’d had better leverage. A crowd had gathered out of nowhere.

But what had happened to Elizabeth? Was she hurt, or even alive? I glanced over, but a cluster of women bent over where she’d stood and I couldn’t see our leader. My heart was a lead weight pounding against my ribs. A call hadn’t gone out for help, medical or otherwise. I prayed the man’s shot had gone wild. Zula and Bertie had headed for Elizabeth. Before they got there, the group parted and Elizabeth herself emerged, supported by Mother on one side and Ruby on the other. A roar of clapping and women’s cheers arose.

“Thank you, Mr. Weed. I’ll take it from here.” Guy pulled out a set of handcuffs and, after Zeb stood, clicked them onto the man’s hands behind his back where he lay.

Zeb stood and dusted off his hands. He winced at skin scraped raw along the side of his right hand.

“Officer, this man’s name is Leroy Dunnsmore,” he said.

The man Zeb had talked about at dinner on First Day. His virulent views explained his actions today. But had he also killed Rowena? I saw the reporter jot down the name.

“He works with me at the Parry Carriage Factory,” Zeb went on. “He’s well known for being anti-suffrage.”

“I expect he’s going to be anti-jail soon enough, because the clink is where he’s going.” Guy hoisted Leroy to his feet and laid his hand on his shoulder. “Leroy Dunnsmore, you are under arrest for attempted assassination of a public figure.”

Several other police officers jogged over. At Guy’s direction, one hustled Leroy away, and two others ordered his cohort to stand and come with them. The election-duty officer ambled back to his post. A lot of help he was.

“And no funny business, either,” Guy warned the ruffians.

“Guy,” I beckoned. “Make sure Kevin knows about Leroy Dunnsmore.”

“I will, Miss Rose.”

Faith took Zeb’s left hand.

“Ladies,” Elizabeth called out. “That misguided man missed me, thanks to this courageous young fellow.” She held out her hand to Zeb, who stepped forward and shook it. “He deserves all our thanks.”

Whoops and cheers went up, and Zeb blushed.

When the noise subsided, Elizabeth went on, her voice strong. “However, I stepped back in alarm when I saw the gun, and I turned my ankle badly. I’m not a young woman and must retire to rest it. Thank you, every one of you women, for braving these brutes and for supporting our cause. You must continue your presence here throughout the day if you are able.” She raised her right fist. “Votes for women!”

We all answered her with “Votes for women!” as Mother and Ruby helped her hobble away.

Georgia Clarke approached them. “My driver and carriage are waiting just around the corner. Please come with me.”

Elizabeth thanked her. Mother caught my eye.

“I’ll return soon.”

I nodded my agreement. The crowd of bystanders dissipated, back to work or play or voting or whatever they’d been doing before the men accosted us.

“I had no idea today would in fact turn into such a dangerous scene,” I said to Bertie as we returned to our place in the line.

“Told you it was going to get ugly.” She tucked a few escaped curls back under her hat.

“I guess you did,” I said. “What a blessing Elizabeth was not seriously hurt.”

“I wonder if she should be going out in public like this if she’s at risk of being killed,” Bertie said, picking up her placard where she’d dropped it. “It would be awful to lose her.”

“She’s brave. I imagine she’s been threatened plenty of times before. Zeb had said on First Day this Leroy Dunnsmore was always speaking negatively at work about women and the vote. I’ve already told Kevin about him in connection with Rowena’s death.”

“But if he owns a gun, why wasn’t Rowena shot, too?” she asked.

“Thee poses a good question. That was a very foolish thing he did today, and I think he wanted to be noticed. But one employs a quiet weapon if one wishes to murder someone without being noticed.”

“Like whacking them on the head,” she muttered.

“Like whacking them on the head.”