We crossed over the darkened roadway in eerie silence at a fast clip, and I wasn’t at all sure where we were going until we pulled into the Hershbergers’ driveway. When I realized who we were going to speak to, my heartbeat sped up. The gas lamp was burning in James’s leather workshop, and that’s where Abram parked the buggy. James was the only person in the building, and he was perched on a stool at the counter. He was tinkering with his heavy-duty sewing machine that could stitch both saddle and harness leather and barely looked up when we entered. I followed Abram and Father to the counter and leaned against it, waiting impatiently for James to acknowledge us. Finally James set the thick string down and sat up. He nodded and said, “I must say you got here right quick, Abram.” “These are difficult times that require immediate action.” James motioned for Father to come closer before speaking in a quiet voice.
