was thrown," Imajean reminded her. "I heard it strike the stage.
Were you frightened?"
Seeing only support and concern in their eyes, Lulu grimaced. "I was terrified.
One never enjoys being the target of such violence," she said, remembering other times,
other places. Cold fingers of fear climbed her spine, and she forced herself to ignore them.
"But it is far too nice a day to worry about what could have happened. Let me tell you
about the rally in Coeur d'Alene."
The others leaned closer while she related the adventure of her first speaking tour.
By the time Mr. Teller returned to join them for dinner, they had discussed likely places
for Lulu to visit during her upcoming journey to Eagle Rock and thence into the Montana
mining towns. Miss Petersham promised to write and enlist her sister in Virginia City to
the cause.
Body and mind still exhausted from the days of traveling, and still shaken from
yesterday's near-violence, Lulu retired almost as soon as she reached her small apartment
on Carbonate Street. The night was hot, with still air and humidity unusual for this dry
climate. She undressed and donned a short linen shift, unwilling to put on her long cotton
nightgown. Wishing the room was arranged so the bed received any errant breeze from the
open window, she lay down and kicked the sheet and blanket to the foot. Her pillow was
fluffy and far too warmly enveloping, so she pushed it onto the floor.
She forced herself to relax, to think back over her speech on the Fourth.
Obviously, she had not reached the minds of many of the men in the audience. More than
likely she would face many similar audiences on her upcoming tour. What could she say to
open their eyes? She smiled. No, it wasn't their eyes she needed to open. It was their
minds.
The heat and the damp air seemed to press her to the bed. Gradually she slipped
into sleep, only to be troubled by voices from somewhere far off. The words meant little at
first. Then they grew louder, and she saw flickers of light across her curtained
window.
She struggled to open her eyes. Tried to rise, with leaden limbs and a body
seeming to lack all strength.
Mrs. Thomas was standing a few feet behind the open doorway, looking out. Lulu
came up beside her.
Next door, a cross burned in the front yard of the church. Reverend Thomas stood
between it and a mob on horseback, perhaps two dozen figures clad in white, hooded
robes. He was speaking, but Lulu couldn't make out his words, which were drowned by
angry shouts.
She started to move, but Mrs. Thomas caught her arm. "No," she said. "We must
not be seen."
"But--"
"Miss King, there's nothing you can do. Stay here, out of sight."
Almost relieved, Lulu stayed.
Reverend Thomas continued to speak for a long time, long enough for Lulu's
vision to adapt to the flickering dark. Behind the cross, between it and the front of the
church a small group of people--men, women and children--were huddled together. Two
Klansmen stood guard over them, armed with shotguns. Again she started forward, only to
be stopped by Mrs. Thomas's tight grip on her arm. " No! You'll only make it
worse."
"No, I--"
"This isn't the first time this has happened. They'll rant and rave a while, maybe
whip one of the men, then they'll go off and drink themselves into a stupor."
Unable to tear her gaze from the drama unfolding before her, Lulu watched as
Reverend Thomas raised both arms, apparently in fervent prayer.
The next instant, he lay on the ground, ridden down by the advancing horde.
From then on she could have been looking into Hell.
She woke with a scream caught in her throat and her body drenched in sweat.
* * * *
"Hell, boy, you've got to think modern. This is the Nineteenth Century!"
"Mr. Eagleton, I am thinking modern. But I'm also trying to make this telephone
system as foolproof as possible. Sometimes the tried and true methods make the most
sense."
Tony leaned forward, both hands planted on the surface of the desk, and stared