women in my life," said Terry, greatly perturbed,
"but I'm not going in there. I'm not going to be--herded in--as if we
were in a cattle chute."

"We can't fight them, of course," Jeff urged. "They're all women,
in spite of their nondescript clothes; nice women, too; good strong
sensible faces. I guess we'll have to go in."

"We may never get out, if we do," I told them. "Strong and sensible,
yes; but I'm not so sure about the good. Look at those faces!"

They had stood at ease, waiting while we conferred together, but never
relaxing their close attention.

Their attitude was not the rigid discipline of soldiers; there was no
sense of compulsion about them. Terry's term of a "vigilance committee"
was highly descriptive. They had just the aspect of sturdy burghers,
gathered hastily to meet some common need or peril, all moved by
precisely the same feelings, to the same end.

Never, anywhere before, had I seen women of precisely this quality.
Fishwives and market women might show similar strength, but it was
coarse and heavy. These were merely athletic--light and powerful.
College professors, teachers, writers--many women showed similar
intelligence but often wore a strained nervous look, while these were as
calm as cows, for all their evident intellect.

We observed pretty closely just then, for all of us felt that it was a
crucial moment.

The leader gave some word of command and beckoned us on, and the
surrounding mass moved a step nearer.

"We've got to decide quick," said Terry.

"I vote to go in," Jeff urged. But we were two to one against him and he
loyally stood by us. We made one more effort to be let go, urgent, but
not imploring. In vain.

"Now for a rush, boys!" Terry said. "And if we can't break 'em, I'll
shoot in the air."

Then we found ourselves much in the position of the suffragette trying
to get to the Parliament buildings through a triple cordon of London
police.

The solidity of those women was something amazing. Terry soon found that
it was useless, tore himself loose for a moment, pulled his revolver,
and fired upward. As they caught at it, he fired again--we heard a
cry--.

Instantly each of us was seized by five women, each holding arm or leg
or head; we were lifted like children, straddling helpless children, and
borne onward, wriggling indeed, but most ineffectually.

We were borne inside, struggling manfully, but held secure most
womanfully, in spite of our best endeavors.