and coming here to work for almost nothing, saying, “we ’spectable niggers can’t get anything to do half the time, and we get drefful little for it when we get a place. They ought to be tuck back where they belong.” Cathcart went directly to Ben, and taking him aside, he described Cassey, told where he saw her, and inquired if Ben knew her. “Yes,” said Ben, “I knows her. She lives over to Lundy’s Lane. She comes over on the Suspension Bridge sometimes to Methodist meeting.” Cathcart had already engaged a score of shaggy Democrats to start at his bidding, and he sent two of them without delay to watch the bridge, and others were sent to all the crossing places between Tonawanda and Youngstown, the gate-keeper at the bridge having told him that no such person had crossed over to Canada that day.
Ben lost no time in sending word to Cassey and to Col. P——, with whom she lived, telling them how he had misled the slave hunter. As soon as it was dark a trusty conductor started with Cassey towards Lockport, and Col. P—— had his fleetest team harnessed to a close carriage, standing in his barn ready to start at a moment’s warning.
Cathcart came back from the bridge, and calling the landlord aside, told him that he had seen one of the slaves that he was looking for; he also related what Ben had said to him. “Well,” said the landlord, “Ben is a trusty fellow generally, but you ought to know better than to confide in any negro on business relating to fugitives.” “But I heard him saying that the runaway niggers were working for low wages and ought to be sent back.” “ Ben said that,” replied the landlord, “when he knew you would hear it. Did the woman recognize you?” “I think she did,” said Cathcart. “Then,” said the landlord, “no time is to be lost. She has no doubt
