Jacob A. Riis (1849–1914). Theodore Roosevelt, the Citizen. 1904.
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| from it its secret, repeating his monotonous “Go on! Keep right ahead!” In the city by the lake William McKinley lay dead. Through the darkness rode the President, clinging obstinately to hope. |
| So the dawn came. As the first faint tinge of it crept into the night, and trees and rocks whirling past took on dim outlines, the steaming horses drew up at the railroad station at North Creek, where a puffing engine had been in waiting many hours. From the platform Secretary Loeb came down, bareheaded: |
| “The worst has happened,” he said. “The President is dead.” |
| So, to this man, who had been tried and found faithful in much, came the call to take his place among the rulers of the earth. |