A Deeper Sense of Loyalty by C. James Gilbert Page B

careful, but hurry. If you wake the farmer your chance will be lost. I will leave the second I hear signs of trouble.”
    â€œI gets your meanin, sir. We be there quick.”
    James turned and headed for the wagon. When he got there he removed the hobbles and stood still, watching, listening. He pulled out his revolver; it made him feel a little safer.
    It seemed like an eternity until he saw movement coming through the tall grass. Sure enough, the two men and their wives came out into the open about twenty feet behind the wagon. “Hurry,” James whispered. “Climb in.”
    The two men carried a few possessions wrapped in blankets. They hurled their bundles into the back, helped the women up, and then climbed in beside them. James stirred up the horse and started off at a slow trot. After they were a mile down the road he sped up a bit. He knew that they must cover as much distance as possible before morning, but it was important to pace the horse to get the most from her endurance. Getting the slaves away from the farm seemed easy. He knew he’d been lucky. But there were hundreds of miles between them and their ultimate destination and he was sure that they would not all pass as smoothly.
    Â He was now a criminal and his passengers were fugitives. He could only imagine the fury of the farmer, Mr. Turner, when he discovered that his slaves were gone. The law would be notified and that could put trouble on their trail. At all cost, James meant to stay as far ahead of any pursuit as possible, and the most precious time was now—before the discovery. One thing was certain; he was past the point of no return.
    After driving for about two hours and covering perhaps forty miles, James pulled to the side of the road to rest the horse. It was one forty-five a.m. He calculated that he had maybe a little over four hours before Mr. Turner would be wise. By then, they could be more than a hundred miles from the farm. He hoped it would be difficult for the law to catch up to them with such a good head start. The only thing that any would-be pursuers could count on was that the slaves would head north. That would still leave a lot of territory to search. The chances were good that they would assume the runaways were on foot.
    Back at the farm, James had parked the horse and wagon on the road for a reason. There would be no tracks leaving the road and then returning to it. If the law did assume the slaves were on foot and tried to track them with dogs, they would never catch up. Most likely, the biggest threat would be the telegraph line. A description of the slaves would surely be sent to points ahead of them and the telegraph was something they could not outrun. Hopefully, James could offset that disadvantage. If he was stopped and questioned by anyone, he hoped to bluff his way through by explaining that he had picked up the information, captured the fugitives, and was returning them himself. After all, he was posing as a slave catcher. He needed to learn to act like one.
    While the horse rested, James turned to his passengers and said, “Are you folks all right back there?” The man he had first awakened at the farm looked up and replied, “We is fine, mister.”
    â€œMy name is William,” James told them. “Call me Bill.”
    â€œYes sir, Mr. Bill.”
    â€œWe’ll be leaving in a few minutes. We have to get as far away as we can before Mr. Turner knows you’re gone.”
    â€œWe understands, Mr. Bill. Ole Turner will most have hiself a real bad angry when he find out. He will surely come a runnin with his whip.”
    â€œWell, I will do all I can to make sure that you never see that whip again. I have to ask you to do something now that I really don’t care for, but I think it’s a good idea.”
    â€œWhat is dat, Mr. Bill?”
    James handed him two sets of manacles and said, “Put these on. If anyone stops us I want them to think that you