Authors: Lois Walfrid Johnson
L
ater that morning Libby stood high in the pilothouse. Like an arrow the bow of the
Christina
pointed upstream. Behind the boat the wake streamed out like an ever-widening triangle.
Ahead of them, the town of Keokuk, Iowa, rose in a high, rounded bluff. Located at a bend in the river with water flowing to the south and east, the bluff almost looked like an island.
As the
Christina
tied up at the landing, Libby raced out of the pilothouse. By the time she reached Caleb on the main deck, she was out of breath.
“Can I go with you?” she asked.
“If you behave.” Caleb grinned.
“I can do that.” Libby lowered her voice. “What about Jordan?”
“I asked him to stay on the boat. We’re too close to northeastern Missouri where his mother lives. Riggs knows Jordan could try to see his mother.”
As soon as the first-class passengers went down the gangplank, Caleb followed them. Libby was only a few steps behind.
When he reached a pile of freight, Caleb looked back. A large crate moved toward them on the shoulder of a tall young man. Whoever carried it had his head down so that Libby saw only the top of his cap.
“Jordan?” Libby whispered.
Caleb’s nod was so slight that Libby almost missed it. “I didn’t think he’d listen to me.”
“Maybe he wants to be courageous,” Libby said softly.
“Jordan has plenty of courage,” Caleb answered. “But right now, he’s being foolhardy!”
“Foolhardy?” Libby asked.
“Reckless. Foolishly bold. Acting before he thinks.”
As Libby watched, Jordan set down the crate and started up the steep main street of Keokuk. Acting as if he didn’t know Jordan, Caleb strolled after him.
Wandering from one place of business to the next, Caleb looked as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Yet he always kept a sharp eye toward wherever Jordan was.
More than once, Libby saw people she recognized as passengers from the
Christina
. One of them was Doctor Hutton, the man who had boarded at St. Louis. In the hours since leaving the city, the
Christina
had made several longer-than-usual stops. Libby hadn’t managed to spot the man she felt sure was Riggs. Right now, with Jordan so close by, she felt relieved that Riggs wasn’t anywhere in sight.
When Caleb came to a printing office, he led Libby inside. She was surprised to find only one person there—a man named Orion Clemens.
“Any maps for sale?” Caleb asked him.
“Maps?” The man shook his head. “Nope. But we printed the first Keokuk City Directory. Can you use that?”
“Can you give me directions instead?” Caleb named a town across the Iowa border in northeastern Missouri.
Going to the door, Mr. Clemens stepped outside and pointed. “See the red arrow on that tree? Follow that till you see the next arrow, and the next, and the next. Down the road a piece, you’ll find a tree with one arrow going straight and another hanging left. Take the arrow hanging left and keep traveling till you see the place you want. You won’t miss it.”
“Thanks, mister,” Caleb answered.
“Anything else I can do for you? You come in on a steamboat?”
“Yup,” Caleb said.
“My brother Sam is on the river learning to be a pilot. If you ever see him, give him a howdy.”
“Sure thing, mister.”
When Caleb and Libby started back to the
Christina
, she saw Jordan leaning against a tree. As Caleb passed him, both he and Jordan acted as if they didn’t know each other. Yet when Libby glanced around, Jordan followed a short distance behind.
Just then Libby heard the
Christina’s
deep-throated warning whistle—one long, two short, and one long. “They’re ready to board again,” she said.
As Caleb picked up his pace, Libby saw a group of older boys around a notice nailed to a building. Some of the tough-looking fellows seemed familiar. With growing uneasiness Libby understood why. She felt sure they were passengers on the
Christina
.
“Look!” a tall blond fellow said. “That’s a mighty big reward!”
Libby’s uneasiness changed to fear. Strong and rowdy looking, the fellow was probably nineteen or twenty years old.
Next to him stood another fellow of about the same age. With dark brown hair, he, too, looked like a bully ready to fight.
Sure that she knew what she’d find, Libby edged forward to read the poster. The words jumped out at her.
$200.00 Reward
.
Runaway,
a black boy named
JORDAN PARKER
,
about 15 or 16 years of age,
five feet, eleven inches, or six feet tall,
last seen wearing tattered cotton shirt.
Strongly built, walks with head high and a proud air….
“Two hundred dollars!” the blond bully exclaimed. “What I could do with that kind of money!”
Trying to not show her fear, Libby stepped back and looked for Caleb. Not far behind her, he, too, had turned. Now he edged out farther into the street. As though nothing important were happening, he stood there, waiting.
Walking on the other side, Jordan drew close. When Caleb’s gaze met his, Caleb glanced toward the bullies.
Jordan’s head jerked up. As if suddenly aware of danger, his eyes widened. Yet he walked on without changing his pace.
What do I do
? thought Libby, then knew she had to pretend nothing was wrong. Walking on her own side of the street, she started after Jordan. She had almost caught up when she heard a shout from behind.
“There he is!” came the cry. “See that proud look? We’ll take care of him!”
Libby whirled around. The bully with brown hair pointed down the hill toward Jordan.
“That’s him, all right!” another fellow called out.
In the next instant, Jordan broke into a run. At the first break in the line of buildings, he darted between two of them. Reaching a high board fence, he put his hands on top, flipped over, and disappeared.
Libby stared back up the street. Shouting and waving their arms, the gang of bullies raced toward her. As though part of the pack, Caleb joined them.
As the bullies drew close to Libby, Caleb shouted loudly, “Which way did he go?”
“That way!” The blond bully pointed toward the fence.
Caleb pointed in the opposite direction. “Go that way!”
With a burst of speed, Caleb took the lead. Still running like a pack, the gang followed him. Between tall warehouses they raced with Caleb urging them on.
Filled with terror, Libby stared after them. When the bullies came back, they would surely search where Jordan had disappeared.
Slowly Libby turned. She hardly dare look, but when she did, she saw fingers grasp the top of the fence. Suddenly Jordan leaped back over, landing in the street across from where Libby stood.
Staying close to the buildings, Jordan once again headed toward the
Christina
.
Jordan
! Libby wanted to cry out.
You’re not safe yet!
But just then a man spoke from directly behind her.
Libby gasped. Her heart pounded with fright.
“Good day, Miss Libby,” Doctor Hutton said. Above his salt-and-pepper beard, his cheeks were ruddy. He looked over the glasses perched halfway down his nose.
“You know my name?” Libby asked.
“I understand you’re Captain Norstad’s daughter.”
“Why yes, I am.” Libby felt pleased that he knew.
Politely the doctor tipped his hat. “Are you here by yourself?” he asked with concern. “My friends and I can see you safely back to the boat.” He glanced toward the two women walking with him.
“Thank you, sir,” Libby said quickly. “I’ll be all right.”
But I’m sure glad you’re not Riggs
, she thought.
“Are you certain?” The doctor’s voice was kind. “It seemed there was some kind of ruckus.”
“Yes.” Libby steadied her voice. “A slight commotion.”
“A runaway slave, you think?” the doctor asked. “If so, I hope the fugitive got away.”
Libby breathed deeply.
Ahhh! The doctor is on our side
! How good it felt, knowing that.
Libby opened her mouth, ready to tell him. Instead, she heard the warning from the large bell on the
Christina’s
roof. As she listened, Libby counted five taps of the clapper, a space, five more taps, another space, and a final five taps.
“Fifteen minutes,” she said. “We need to hurry. If we don’t get back, the boat will leave without us.”
While the doctor waited for her, she told him to go ahead. “I’m meeting a friend,” she said. “We’ll catch up.”
As Doctor Hutton and the two ladies once more started down the hill, Libby stared after them. Gazing up and down the street, she felt frantic.
Where’s Jordan
?
Quickly she ran to the fence and looked over.
Not there. But where is he?
As the ten-minute warning bell rang, Libby’s panic grew. She had no choice but to follow Doctor Hutton. When she was halfway down the hill, she heard the gang of bullies returning. They were still running.
Dividing into two groups, they raced up and down both sides of the street on which Libby walked. At each opening, the bullies ran between buildings, looked around, and returned. When the tall blond fellow reached an open shed, he stopped, peered inside, then hurried on.
“Let’s try that other street!” Caleb called, pointing off in another direction. Once again the boys turned to follow him.
Desperately Libby looked around. As she stood there, wondering what to do, a tiny little lady walked up to her.
“Friend,” she said, “do you need some help?”
Not sure how to answer, Libby stared at her. “Do you live here?” she asked finally.
The woman smiled. “For many years. And I know how to help you. Look in that shed for your friend.” Tipping her head, she nodded across the street.
Without another word the woman disappeared into a nearby building. Quickly Libby crossed the street. As she started past the shed, she heard a whisper.
“Libby!”
Stopping dead in her tracks, she listened.
“Libby!” came the voice again.
It was Jordan, all right, but where was he?
Glancing around, Libby made sure that no one was watching.Then she peered into the shed. A number of big crates were stacked high.
Slowly Libby walked into the shed and around the crates. She couldn’t see anyone. “Where are you?” she asked softly.
“Be it safe?” came the whisper back.
This time Libby looked up. The shadow from the roof fell across the uppermost crates. As her eyes grew used to the dim light, she saw Jordan lying on the top crate.
“Just a minute.” Returning to the street, Libby gazed up and down. For now all the bullies were gone.
“Hurry!” she said.
With one quick movement, Jordan was off the crate and racing down the street.
Shortly before Libby reached the waterfront, she found another notice. Ripping it down, she stuffed the paper into a pocket and kept walking.
Ahead of her she saw Jordan. When he drew close to the
Christina
, he picked up a barrel. Balancing it on his shoulder, he tipped his head to hide his face and walked up the gangplank. A moment later he disappeared.
As Libby started up the gangplank, Caleb caught up. “Meet us in the captain’s cabin,” he said in a low voice. Then he, too, disappeared.