participated

that boy, through and through."
"Yes, sir, I heard."
"They made him a colonel, too. That must have been Monroe's doing. Madison would have waffled, as always, and Armstrong's useless." Jackson cleared his throat. The sound had a certain gloating quality to it also. "Was useless, I should say."
Coffee raised an eyebrow. Jackson smiled at him. "Yes, of course. If you haven't read the dispatches—the newspaper accounts rather—you wouldn't know. It seems the good John Armstrong is resigning as secretary of war. Monroe's to replace him."
Coffee looked out the window. That was certainly good news. "Then who's to be the secretary of state?"
Jackson shrugged. "Nothing's definite. If the newspapers are to be believed, Monroe will remain on for a time as the acting secretary. But he'll be devoting himself primarily to the War Department."
Better and better.
It was a sunny day outside, which matched the mood in the room. Both Coffee and Jackson thought rather highly of James Monroe. They didn't know him that well, true, but Monroe had always been the main voice in the Madison administration calling for strengthening America's military forces. And, for an easterner, he was unusually sensitive to the situation of the settlers in the West.
Jackson cleared his throat again. The sound, this time, lacked the earlier gloating quality. Again, he held up a newspaper. "You should know also that Houston's Cherokees apparently participated in the fight with him. That Lieutenant John Ross is named specifically in several of these accounts. It seems he's even become one of Monroe's aides. He got a promotion, also, to