At
sunrise they stopped to give their horses a moment to rest. In the
distance they could see Brimstead's house and the harrowed fields around
it. The women were lying covered by the hay; the man was sitting up and
looking back down the road.
"They're coming," he exclaimed, suddenly, as he got under the hay.
Samson and Harry could see horsemen following at a gallop half a mile or
so down the road. It looked like trouble, for at that hour men were not
likely to be abroad in the saddle and riding fast on any usual errand.
Our friends hurried their team and got to Brimstead's door ahead of the
horsemen. A grove of trees screened the wagon from the view of the latter
for a moment. Henry Brimstead stood in the open door.
"Take these slaves into the house and get them out of sight as quick as
you can," said Samson. "There's going to be a quarrel here in a minute."
The slaves slid off the load and ran into the house.
This was all accomplished in a few seconds. The team started on toward
Peasley's farm as if nothing had happened, with Harry and Samson standing
on the load.
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