Chapter One --In the Beginning On 2 September, 1776, the Second Continental Congress, including Delegates Dr. Franklin and John Adams, listened to General Sullivan's message from General Howe. “Since I now hold all of Long Island, I am empowered by King George III to offer you a peace settlement. However, since I don't recognize your assembly as official, I respectfully submit that you elect a committee comprised of private citizens, and then I will discuss the King's terms.” Congress deliberated for four days. On 6 September, 1776, the assembly elected Dr. Benjamin Franklin, John Adams and John Rutledge to represent them and confer with General Howe about the King's terms. “Took their damn time in deciding,” Adams, frustrated with Congress' inability to deliberate faster, said to a rather placid Franklin. “What's the fuss? Good decisions require lengthy sessions. Keep that in mind and you'll sleep sounder at night.” “A pleasant thought. Here's one more thought for you. Printer Dunlop approached me earlier this morning, agitated and remorseful.” “Dunlop? What has his apprentice done?” “The original copy of the Declaration of Independence is missing. His assistant insists that it wasn't him. Now, Doctor, what kind of decision does this action call for?” Dr. Franklin continued sucking on his long stemmed pipe as he returned his attention back to the Pennsylvania Evening Post. “Did you hear me? Printer Dunlop told me where he stored that original, and it's gone.” Adams paced the chamber, hands clasped behind his back. The other delegates talking amongst themselves ignored him, considering him a troublemaker. Dr. Franklin withdrew his pipe from wrinkled lips. “Are you sure? His apprentices deny any involvement with it?” He shrugged. “No matter, we have other original copies.” “It doesn't make sense,” Adams insisted, stopping and standing right in front of Dr. Franklin. Unperturbed, he removed his pipe a second time. “General Washington passed along to the Safety Committee a report from one of his spies on the movements of that Woburn man who escaped the Sons of Liberty in New Hampshire last May.” Dr. Franklin took another puff, blew out several rings, staring Adams down as if quieting and patting him on the shoulder like a favorite dog. He buried himself in the newspaper. Adams resumed his pacing, lips puckered, as he pursued his dark, stark thoughts and imagined wrongs.