The suggestion was like a fire brand to dry timber. Before the two soldiers on the outskirts of the crowd could fully realized what had happened, a stout apprentice lad in a leather apron had procured a rope which another brawny fellow flung around the Tory's neck. He tried to plead for mercy but his voice was silenced by the howling of the mob, so desperate in its rage against the king that they sought blind vengeance on their victim for daring to speak in his behalf. Isaac started forward, his face white and tense. "Come, Tim," he cried, "We must make them set him free." The Irishman shrugged. "A Tory more or less! Let them hang him and welcome." Isaac Franks did not answer. He only pushed his way through the mob, the crowd giving place to his uniform. He knew he could do nothing against them single-handed; yet he felt that he could not let this innocent man die. And, curiously enough, he thought less of the Tory's fate than the shame that would fall upon the people of his native city, if they committed such a crime in their reckless fury. He neared the front where several older and cooler citizens stood trying in vain to persuade the angry patriots to release the Tory. Then a splendid thought flashed through his quick mind, and springing lightly upon the leaden statue, he cried in a ringing voice: "I come from General Washington." The magic name hushed the angry crowd. They waited eagerly for the boy's words. "I serve the general of the American Army," continued Franks, "and I am as loyal as any of you, for I carry a gun to defend my country while you do nothing but cackle, cackle like the hens in a poultry yard." The crowd, quick to respond to every suggestion, laughed goodhumoredly at Tim's mocking description which was now standing his friend in good stead. "And you have as much brains as the hens in a poultry yard," continued the boy, following his advantage, "for instead of pulling out the roots of your trouble, you attack this poor fool who never saw King George and is not even one of his soldiers." He leaned down and half pulled the rope from the Tory's neck. "He is not worthy the honor of hanging. Use your good rope to haul down the statue of his Gracious Majesty, King George III--which has cumbered our city too long. And melt the lead into bullets which the soldiers of General Washington will use against any Briton who dares to enter our New York."