r
Office and musingly said:

"Well, if Stanton says that I am a blankety fool, it must be so, for I
have found out that he is nearly always right, and generally means what he
says. I'll just step over and see Stanton."

As he spoke the last sentence, the humour slowly faded from his face, and
the anxious mother saw back of those patient gray eyes the sudden gleam of
the courage and conscious power of a lion.

He dismissed them with instructions to return the next day for his final
orders and walked over to the War Department alone.

The Secretary of War was in one of his ugliest moods, and made no effort
to conceal it when asked his reasons for the refusal to execute the
order.

"The grounds for my action are very simple," he said with bitter emphasis.
"The execution of this traitor is part of a carefully considered policy of
justice on which the future security of the Nation depends. If I am to
administer this office, I will not be hamstrung by constant Executive
interference. Besides, in this particular case, I was urged that justice
be promptly executed by the most powerful man in Congress. I advise you to
avoid a quarrel with old Stoneman at this crisis in our history."

The President sat on a sofa with his legs crossed, relapsed into an
attitude of resignation, and listened in silence until the last sentence,
when suddenly he sat bolt upright, fixed his deep gray eyes intently on
Stanton and said:

"Mr. Secretary, I reckon you will have to execute that order."

"I cannot do it," came the firm answer. "It is an interference with
justice, and I will not execute it."

Mr. Lincoln held his eyes steadily on Stanton and slowly said:

"Mr. Secretary, it will have to be done."

Stanton wheeled in his chair, seized a pen and wrote very rapidly a few
lines to which he fixed his signature. He rose with the paper in his hand,
walked to his chief, and with deep emotion said:

"Mr. President, I wish to thank you for your constant friendship during
the trying years I have held this office. The war is ended, and my work is
done. I hand you my resignation."

Mr. Lincoln's lips came suddenly together, he slowly rose, and looked down
with surprise into the flushed angry face.

He took the paper, tore it into pieces, slipped one of his long arms
around the Secretary, and said in low accents:

"Stanton, you have been a faithful public servant, and it is not for you
to say when you will no longer be needed. Go on with