The Gentle Rebel by Gilbert Morris Page A

engrossed with the personalities to listen to ideas. One thing he knew—for the first time in his life, he felt more like a man than a boy! “It’s just great, Moses!” he said as the last speaker, Dr. Warren, ended and they all stood up. “I want to join with you.”
    “Let’s go tell Mr. Adams.”
    They started toward the front, but at that instant there was a loud knock at the door. Revere was closest, and he moved to open it; there was caution in his face, and Adams said quietly, “Remember, we’re just a group meeting to study history!” A small laugh sounded, but Adams frowned and they took their cue. “Open the door, Mr. Revere.”
    Caleb was never so surprised in his life, for there in the open door stood his brother Nathan!
    “I’m looking for Caleb Winslow,” Nathan said loudly, looking like a giant in the doorway, drawn up to his full height. There was a hard look on his face, and he suddenly met Caleb’s eyes. “I see he’s here.”
    “Why, yes, he is,” Revere said. He smiled and put his hand out. “We’re just finished, but won’t you come in?”
    “I have no business here—and neither does my brother.” Nathan’s voice was cold, and he ignored the hand, pushing past Revere to come and stand before the two boys. “Let’s go, Caleb.”
    There was a sudden stillness in the place, an ominous and uncomfortable silence, and everyone looked right at Caleb.
    He felt the pressure of their eyes, and though most of them were strangers to him, he felt Moses lean slightly against him, and it was enough to make him say, “I’ll take care of myself, Nathan!”
    “You’re not taking care of yourself like this!”
    “You have objections to our study group, Mr. Winslow?” Sam Adams did not move, but his deep-set eyes suddenly burned with the anger that always lurked just beneath the surface.
    “Study group, you call it?” Nathan scoffed. “I think we all know exactly what it is you study! How to overthrow the King’s true government!”
    Revere said quietly, “I don’t think Gilbert Winslow would have looked at it like that, my boy. He left England to make a world where men could be free. And I suspect your father feels that way, as well.”
    Nathan said angrily, “I will not argue politics with you, sir! Caleb, come with me!”
    “No, I won’t do it, Nathan.”
    Nathan stood there towering over the sturdy form of his brother, and he forced himself to say quietly, “Father said for me to take care of you, Caleb. I can’t let you stay here with these men. You could end up in jail—or worse!”
    “In that your brother may be accurate, young man.” Dr. Warren suddenly moved out of the cluster in the rear and came to stand close to the brothers. He was a tall man with a fair complexion and a kind expression in his dark eyes. “It would not be fair to let you stay without knowing this well. All of us in this room are in danger—and it will probably get worse.”
    Nathan was taken off guard by the tall man’s honesty. “Why, that’s decent of you, sir.”
    The doctor glanced at Adams, and seemed to find what he sought. “Caleb, I suggest you go with your brother. Your father seems to have put you in his charge. Think about this, talk to your parents. Then make your decision.”
    Adams nodded. “Good idea, my boy. You do it.”
    “All right—but I know I’ll be back.”
    Revere stepped back, but said to Nathan, “Give my regards to your parents for me, Mr. Winslow. I’ve often thought of them.”
    “I’ll do that,” Nathan said, then walked out of the room followed by Caleb, who was close to tears and bit his lips to hide it.
    “Those lads are in for trouble,” Dr. Warren murmured.
    “That they are—and the tall one is in for the most grief,” Adams nodded. “Well, there’ll be many a family like that before this thing is over—split right down the middle.”
    “I wonder what Gilbert Winslow would have said about this?” Revere mused. Then he gave a rueful laugh.