“I am a gentleman of consequence in the community,” smiled Tobias Hawkins, disagreeably, “and you are a wild youngster whose word is not to be too largely credited. I have friends in the Congress, in the army, in civil life. Everything that I have done,” and the smile grew still more disagreeable, “has been done openly and for the good of the country.”
“But your reasons,” flared the boy, “your reasons have been to——”
“Can you prove that?” questioned Hawkins.
“You yourself have said it,” returned Ben.
The man laughed, and his companion joined him.
“I deny that I said it,” spoke Hawkins. “And now what do you say?”
Nonplused, Ben stood for a moment, not knowing what answer to make. Hawkins was right. Ben could prove no wrong intention behind anything the man had done. To have plotted against Washington was no crime. Many men in public life were doing the same thing openly, every day. Now that it was too late, Ben saw that he had been too impulsive in making known his presence; but though defeated, he made up his mind to have a final fling at any rate.
“You are right,” said he, evenly enough, now that he realized the weakness of his position. “Just now I can do nothing—in that way.”
“Ah, you see that, do you?” laughed the man.
“I do,” replied Ben. “But there is one thing which you, seemingly, do not see.”