Second Officer (in a low voice to first officer),—There are traitors right here in the city. The President must be guarded, but he must not know of the danger. Sh-h.
(President Lincoln, entering),—Good morning, gentlemen.
(Officers salute him.)
Lincoln walks over to the table and picking up the first of the telegrams, smiles. Listen to this, gentlemen. (Reads aloud). Massa Lincoln, my boy, Jim, done run away to fight in this cruel war. Please send him home. Aunt Chloe.
Officers laugh.
Lincoln, talking on, as he glances at one telegram after another,—I have just come from a lively talk with one of my advisers. (Laughs and looks keenly from one officer to the other.)
First Officer,—Yes?
Lincoln,—You see, he blames me for being too soft-hearted. Too many pardons, he declares. The soldiers aren't held up to their duty. If they get scared and run from danger, they think that a word from me will save them. Well, my good friend had worked himself into a rage when he came to me, but bless you, he went away smiling.
