“Well,” piped the Doctor, with his chin on his cane, “he’s too big a figure nationally for murder–”
“Well, then–what do you propose, gentlemen?” asked Perry who, being the youngest man in the council, was impatient.
Fenn rose, his back to the ornamental logs piled decoratively in the fireplace, and answered:
“To sound the clarion means riot and bloodshed–and failure for the cause.”
“To let things drift,” put in Brotherton, “puts Grant in danger.”
“Of what?” asked the Doctor.
“Well, of indignities unspeakable and cruel torture,” returned Brotherton.
“I’m sure that’s all, George. But can’t we–we four stop that?” said Fenn. “Can’t we stand off the mob? A mob’s a coward.”
“It’s the least we can do,” said Perry.
“And all you can do, Nate,” added the Doctor, with the weariness of age in his voice and in his counsel.