At exactly 1:42 dial the drag stopped under the arch of the entrance to the President’s mansion, and Junius Cobb was received by the chief magistrate of the United States.
Emory D. Craft, President of the United States, was a tall, rotund, and pleasant gentleman of over sixty years of age. His head was massive, and his features square and clean-cut; his hair almost white, and a beard heavy and gray. A man of great perception, executive ability, true kindness, and wisdom, he ruled the greatest nation on earth as a loving father rules his household, with justice and firmness.
As Rawolle and Cobb alighted, he descended the steps, and, advancing, extended his hand to the former, exclaiming:
“I welcome you back, Mr. Rawolle.”
“Thank you, sir; and let me present Mr. Junius Cobb.”
“Mr. Cobb, I cannot express to you the pleasure of this meeting;” and the President shook the young man’s hand heartily. “Be assured that your remarkable, nay, wonderful, case has been uppermost in my mind since first I became aware of your existence.”
“Nor can I, Mr. President, express the gratification I feel in meeting and shaking the hand of the chief magistrate of this great nation, especially when that magistrate is ruling the country a hundred and forty years after my birth.”
Cobb seemed proud of the fact that he, of all the world, could make such a statement.
A few moments later, the President and Cobb were sitting before a glowing, cheerful fire, engaged in earnest conversation.