It Shall be Blood continued, I answer back in surprising fashion, Dr. Sharp’s proposal, Master Jefferson’s rebuff
There I was, you understand, a boy of sixteen, faced with Mr. Thomas Jefferson, as lean and straight as a hickory switch and Dr. Sharp just beside him as stout and strong as a cannonball, each of ’em a power in their worlds and both waiting on my answer. For just a spell I had to catch my breath at the unlikelihood of the moment and lost all sense of what to say. “Well, as to trade,” I said at last, “must a man be confined to only that, even if he is accomplished?” Then, surprising even myself, I burst out, “Travel! Yes, I think besides a trade I should like to travel.”
“Travel?” they asked together, looking at each other in bewilderment and then back to me.
“Why, yes,” I sa
