"I'll get you something," said Sarah, as she opened the cupboard.
"I think we had better not stop to eat now, madame," said the negro. "We
will be followed and they may reach here any minute."
Harry, who had been awakened by the arrival of the strangers, came down
the ladder.
"These are fugitive slaves on their way north," said Samson. "Take them
out to the stack. I'll bring some food in a few minutes."
Harry conducted them to their hiding-place, and when they had entered it,
he brought a ladder and opened the top of the stack. A hooped shaft in
the middle of it led to a point near its top and provided ventilation.
Then he crawled in at the entrance, through which Samson passed a pail
of food, a jug of water and some buffalo hides. Harry sat with them for
a few moments in the black darkness of the stack room to learn whence
they had come and whither they wished to go.
"We are from St. Louis, suh," the mulatto answered. "We are on our way to
Canada. Our next station is the house of John Peasley, in Tazewell
County.
Pages:
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313