which their reconstruction
policy would bring to the South, and that they would be strong enough in
influence to combat that danger. Nothing could have been farther from my
mind than the expectation that before long it would be my lot to take an
active part in that combat on the most conspicuous political stage in
the country.

THE THIRTEENTH MOVE

BY ALBERTA BANCROFT

ILLUSTRATIONS BY M. J. SPERO

Ikey stood on the street corner and fingered her veil to keep passersby
from seeing her lips tremble. She was sure that she was going to cry
right there in the open, and she was furious about it, because she did
not approve of weepy females.

"If you dare," she whispered fiercely, "if you dare, I'll--I'll--you
shan't have that nickel's worth of peanut candy, or those currant buns,
either."

This threat proving effective, she turned, head held high, and entered
the bakery.

There was the usual Saturday afternoon crowd, jostling on the shoddy
thoroughfare. To-day the jostling was intensified; for the car strike
was on in full blast, feeling ran high, and demonstrations were being
made against the company. Now and again a car passed slowly up or down
the street, drays and express wagons blocking its progress wherever
possible, scab conductor and motorman hooted at by San Francisco men and
beplumed ladies for their pains.

Ikey looked at the mob in disgust. Then she hurried around the corner
and away from the scene of commotion.

"And to think that it has come to this, that I can't ride up and down in
those cars all day long--_just to show 'em_."

The beach was what she really wanted--one of those little sand hummocks
with juicy plants sprawling over it, that protect one from the wind and
yet reveal beyond ravishing glimpses of cliff and breaker and sapphire
shining sea.

But the beach was not to be found in the heart of town. And she was too
tired to walk there--not having had any lunch and being very angry
besides. And she would lose her "job"--her miserable, wretched,
disgusting, good-for-nothing job (Ikey loved adjectives), if she rode.
For any and all women connected with any and all union men had been
forbidden to use the company's cars. And business houses--who had
anything to gain from it--had promised their employees instant dismissal
for even one ride. And the firm that employed Ikey would lose
three-fourths of its trade if the union boycotted it.

So the sand-dunes would have to wait. But ther