“I accept this work of art with the deepest humility and gratitude. I am honored.”

Adams rose and began a toast: “To our President and to Paul Revere…”

A single fist pounded into the table like a sledgehammer. Horace Taylor Pratt leaped to his feet, shrieking, “Seek the high ground, Mr. President! The enemy has surrounded you!”

“That man is out of order!” barked Adams.

“I will have my say!” Pratt slammed his fist on the table again.

“Be careful, Pratt. That’s how you lost the other arm,” cracked Byles.

Pratt ignored the nervous laughter that skittered across the room. “The hypocrites are praising your name, they’re fawning at your feet, and they’ll have their hand out to you in the morning!”

“Are you referring to the gentlemen of Boston, sir?” asked Washington.

“I’m referring to the men in this room, and damn few of them are gentlemen!”

Hancock jumped up like a dockhand in a tavern brawl. “Least of all yourself, Pratt!”

“A miraculous cure, Mr. Hancock?” Washington’s voice dripped bile.

Hancock remembered his bandaged feet and sat quickly. “Such words are hard to bear, Mr. President.”

“The truth always is, sir,” yelled Pratt. “You have no gout, and that tea set is no memorial to Mr. Washington.”

“This is an outrage!” boomed Henry Knox, Secretary of War.

Pratt’s hand shot toward the tea set. “That is an outrage!”

“If Mr. Pratt sees no gentlemen in the room, perhaps by example he could show us the look of one!” cried Revere.

At the sound of the silversmith’s voice, Pratt seemed to grow several inches in every direction. “You dare ask me to act like a gentleman? You see this, sir?” He began to wave his stump in the air. It was one of his favorite tricks. “I once had an arm, a hand, and fingers just like yours, but I lost them and a brother at Bunker Hill. You escaped the Revolution with nothing but a few saddle sores, yet you have the gall to ask me to act like a gentleman! When I am confronted by hypocrisy and stupidity, I do not act like a gentleman!”

“We have had enough of this rubbage!” announced Adams. He called for the guards, and three soldiers appeared at the back of the hall. Adams pointed to Pratt. “Remove this man at once.”

“There is no need to remove anyone,” said Washington.

“Mr. President, this man is speaking slander on everyone in this room,” charged Adams.

“He is speaking an opinion, sir. He has the right to be heard.” Before Adams could respond, Washington turned to Pratt. “Without undue display or unfair interruption, say your piece.”

Pratt smiled and bowed. Just as he had hoped, he had Washington’s support, and he had everyone else angry. “Thousands of dollars have been spent on that tea set, sir. Public money that might have been used to ease the burden of heavy taxes on men like me, or to help the farmers who rebelled with Colonel Shays, or to erect new buildings at Harvard College.”

Hancock slammed his hand down on the table. “Mr. President, I must interrupt—”

“We will hear the man out,” said Washington firmly.

Pratt was enjoying himself now. He glanced at young Horace, whose eyes shifted nervously from his father to the President.