had given them some money. He (the guide), was a sharp colored boy, not more than thirteen years old. They followed their instructions, by keeping in sight of their guide, and talking about a meeting which had been held that evening, from which they appeared to be returning home. As Jo and Harry were zealous Methodists, it was easy for them to prolong a conversation on such a topic indefinitely; “the powerful preach-in,” and “how happy that yaller gal was,” &c., they talked as loudly and as earnestly as others, who, at that hour, crowded the well-lighted streets. They reached the outskirts of the city before the hour when negroes must not be seen in the streets, where they met the girls in charge of a man, who gave further directions, and started north.
From thence to Philadelphia they traveled on foot in the night, stopping through the day at farm houses with Quakers. Jo said they never failed to find a good breakfast in readiness on their arrival, and the people expecting them before it was light.
From Philadelphia they went on a small fishing boat to Bordentown, thence to New York by railroad. The boys were stowed away among bales and boxes in a freight car, and the girls by the evening train in a firstclass car; they were dressed as ladies, with veils over their faces. A gentleman, assuming the air of a Southerner, walked between them, pushing aside a man at the door, whose business it was to detect runaway slaves; they stepped in just as the car started. Having arrived safely in New York, they were pushed forward to Albany, and Jo’s companions being provided for, we dismiss them and follow only the fortunes of Jo.
Jo was expecting that his wife, Mary, and their little boy, would come on by a route better suited to their condition, but he soon heard that her master, having de
