Part 39 (1/2)

”Needs bifocals,” said Dave.

”Pardon?” asked the clerk.

”Nothing important,” said Dave.

Franklin, of course, was only at the beginning of his career. But help was on the way.

The volumes were bound in velvet. The book had been published anonymously.

”What don't you understand about it?” Dave asked the dealer.

”What all the fuss is about. It's got tiny people. Giants. Horses that talk. It's a book for children.” He went back to his original spectacles. ”No wonder the author's keeping his name quiet. I would, too.”

IN 1727, Franklin had founded the Junto, a group of twelve friends who met in Philadelphia at the Indian King Tavern on Friday evenings to discuss philosophy, politics, ethics, and whatever other subject seemed worthwhile. The meetings, as far as Shel could determine, were closed to nonmembers. But they took place in a bar. How difficult could it be? 1727, Franklin had founded the Junto, a group of twelve friends who met in Philadelphia at the Indian King Tavern on Friday evenings to discuss philosophy, politics, ethics, and whatever other subject seemed worthwhile. The meetings, as far as Shel could determine, were closed to nonmembers. But they took place in a bar. How difficult could it be?

They arrived down the street from the tavern on Friday evening, January 19, 1728, at a quarter to seven. Shel carried the copy of Gulliver's Travels Gulliver's Travels, wrapped in a paper bag.

It was cold. They could hear hear the tavern before they saw it. There was music from a stringed instrument, and raucous laughter, and a strong aroma of hops. Candles glittered happily in the windows. It occurred to Shel as they approached the place that he'd almost become accustomed to a world without electricity. And that the guy who was going to change that world forever would be here tonight. the tavern before they saw it. There was music from a stringed instrument, and raucous laughter, and a strong aroma of hops. Candles glittered happily in the windows. It occurred to Shel as they approached the place that he'd almost become accustomed to a world without electricity. And that the guy who was going to change that world forever would be here tonight.

Two young men were coming from the opposite direction. They'd started their drinking early, and they had to help each other into the tavern.

Shel and Dave followed them inside. The interior was filled with tobacco smoke. The clientele was all male, and most seemed reasonably well-to-do. Some were seated at tables, eating dinner. Others had collected at a bar. The music was being provided by a middle-aged guy with a guitar.

They ordered a couple of beers and were just starting on them when four more men came in, pa.s.sed directly through the room, and mounted a set of stairs in back. ”That should be them,” said Shel.

”I don't see anybody who looks like Franklin.”

”He might be up there already.”

Dave eased out of his chair. ”Shall we go?”

”Let's wait till seven. We don't want to get there before he he does.” does.”

The beer was good. More visitors entered and headed for the second floor. ”How long do these meetings last?” asked Dave.

”About an hour. Hold on.”

One of the newcomers, a young man, stopped at a table to talk and exchange handshakes. Shel had no idea what Franklin had looked like at twenty-one. But this might be him. He was a little taller than average, with brown hair and alert eyes. He finished the conversation and started for the stairs.

Shel waited until he was gone. Then he wandered over to the table. The two men were in their early twenties, one white, one Hispanic. Both looked prosperous. ”Pardon me,” he said, ”but I'm trying to find a Mr. Franklin-”

”Ben?” asked the Hispanic.

”Yes.”

”That was him a minute ago. He just went upstairs.”

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LAUGHTER drifted down from the second floor. And applause. They went up the staircase and into a corridor. A door was open, and a noisy group of men was gathered inside a meeting room. Most were young, in their twenties. Shel and Dave stopped at the entrance, where an open ledger had been set up on a small table. drifted down from the second floor. And applause. They went up the staircase and into a corridor. A door was open, and a noisy group of men was gathered inside a meeting room. Most were young, in their twenties. Shel and Dave stopped at the entrance, where an open ledger had been set up on a small table.

Franklin had just signed in and was deeply engaged in conversation with a portly gentleman who was puffing on a large cigar.

A man with spectacles spotted Shel and Dave. He shook his head no, but when Shel entered anyway, he got up and came over. ”Gentlemen,” he said through a regretful smile, ”I'm sorry. This is a private meeting.”

”I know,” said Shel. ”Forgive me, but this is is the Junto, is it not?” the Junto, is it not?”

”Yes, it is, sir.”

Shel fixed his eyes on Franklin. ”We'll only take a moment of your time. We wondered if we might speak briefly with Silence Dogood.” He raised his voice sufficiently to be heard inside the room.

Franklin turned to look at them. ”Really?” An amused glimmer appeared in his eyes. ”And what do you know of Silence Dogood?”

”We lived in Boston for several years,” said Shel. ”If you are the man, I must tell you how much I enjoyed your work.”

He came over. ”I have it, Hugh,” he told the individual who was trying to get them to leave.

”We were subscribers to the New-England Courant New-England Courant,” Shel continued. ”You were the best thing in the paper.”

”That's very kind of you, sir.” They had everyone's attention now. Franklin smiled and shrugged his shoulders, enjoying the moment. ”How did you know I I wrote the features? Only a few were aware of that.” wrote the features? Only a few were aware of that.”

”I've heard it from several sources, Mr. Franklin. You are are Mr. Franklin?” Mr. Franklin?”

”Yes, I am.”

”I'm sorry if we interrupted at an inopportune time, sir. I hope you're not offended. But when we heard you were going to be here-” He stopped midsentence. ”My name is Adrian Shelborne. This is David Dryden. When we heard you were going to be here, we just couldn't resist coming by to wish you a happy birthday.”

”You don't sound like a New Englander, Mr. Shelborne.”

”I was born and grew up in Philadelphia, sir.”

”I see. Well, I thank you for the good wishes.”

The two men from the table downstairs arrived at precisely that moment. ”I see they found you, Ben,” said the Hispanic.

Shel smiled and held out the package. ”Mr. Franklin, we brought you a gift.”

Franklin looked curiously at it, but made no move to accept it.

”It's a book,” said Shel.

He took it, finally. He opened the bag and withdrew one of the volumes. ”Interesting,” he said. He held it up so everyone in the room could see it. ”Gulliver's Travels.” He glanced at the second volume and turned back to Shel and Dave. ”That's a substantial gift for someone you do not know.”