The Swindler's Treasure (16 page)

Early the next morning, Libby, Caleb, and Peter were eating breakfast with Mrs. Hunter when Priscilla Baltimore came to the door. She stepped inside carrying a laundry basket. Libby wondered if she really did do laundry or if it was a way of hiding her work with the Underground Railroad. Then she began lifting carefully ironed laundry from her basket.

Though probably in her late fifties, Miss Priscilla moved with the energy of a young girl. “I've already talked to Jordan,” she said. “The slave catchers aren't sure if his father drowned or if he managed to swim the Mississippi. They're searching this side of the river now.”

“Do you think Micah Parker is in Alton?” Caleb asked.

“If he is, none of the conductors I know have seen him.”

Caleb groaned.

“But—” Miss Priscilla held up her hand. “There's a place north of Alton you can try. The Monticello Seminary, a school for girls in Godfrey. It's the kind of place Jordan's daddy might find on his own.”

Caleb stood up. “Let's go,” he said to Libby and Peter. Then he turned to the two women. “What should we do to hide Jordan?”

“All our wagons and buggies will be in use,” Mrs. Hunter answered.

“The town is swarming with slave catchers,” Miss Priscilla added. “It's a dangerous time for any colored person, whether a runaway or free.”

“Jordan doesn't have a pass,” Caleb told her. “And he doesn't have papers saying that he's free.”

“Most catchers know that documents like that are forged,” she said. “You will have to be Jordan's pass, his freedom papers. Walk down the street as if it's all right that Jordan walks with you.”

There it is again
, Libby thought.
Already Miss Priscilla had told Jordan the same thing. Walk as if you belong to Caleb
.

“How far is it to the school for girls?” Caleb asked.

“Take a stagecoach,” Miss Priscilla told him. “It will give Jordan a better hiding place.”

“When should we go?”

“If you wait for the morning train to come in from St. Louis, there will be plenty of stages near the station. But don't go yet. There would be too much time for Jordan to be seen.”

When Miss Priscilla left, Libby and Caleb talked about what to do. Peter offered a reminder. “We haven't found the swindler.”

Using the few signs he had learned from Peter, Caleb half signed, half wrote, “Libby and I will go to the swindler's house. You go to the Rock House. Tell Jordan we'll come there for both of you.”

“We need to catch the swindler in the act of doing something wrong,” Caleb said as he and Libby walked to the deserted house.

“Or prove that he has the money stolen from Pa and from Jordan?” asked Libby.

“That would do it.” Caleb sounded as if he wanted to make sure they could put everything together. “I like Peter's secret sign for danger ahead. But we need another signal, too—a way of knocking so we know who is there.”

“A secret knock, you mean?” Libby's throat felt dry. What was going to happen that Caleb felt they needed that?

“How about this?” Caleb rapped against his fist in three even knocks. “That means
It's me, Caleb
.”

“And I rap back?” Libby tried it, using a different pattern.
Long, short, long
.

When Caleb and Libby reached the swindler's house, they knew something had changed during the night. One of the curtains was in a slightly different position.

Kneeling down behind the bushes, they waited, but not for long. The man Libby knew as Edward Dexter came out, then closed and locked the front door. In each hand he carried a cloth bag with handles. As he started down the hill, Libby and Caleb followed at a safe distance.

After all the waiting, Libby felt excited but frightened too. “What if we see him do something wrong?” she whispered.

“Find a policeman,” Caleb answered.

As they hurried down the hill, Libby watched for a policeman. Edward Dexter headed straight for the ticket window at the train depot. Doing his best not to be seen by the swindler, Caleb edged close.

When he returned to Libby, they slipped behind a freight wagon to decide what to do.

“Where is Dexter going?” Libby asked.

“Brighton. It's north of Alton on the way to Springfield. Dexter is leaving on the morning train. That means I've got only two hours to get Jordan and Peter.”

Caleb began pulling coins from his pockets. “Do you have money?”

“Not much.” Libby took out what she had. When she left the
Christina
, she didn't want to ask Pa for money with the deadline for the loan on August fifteenth.
Today is Saturday, August first
, Libby thought with dread.
The loan is due two weeks from today
.

Near the train station, several stagecoach drivers waited, ready to pick up passengers.

“Find out if there's a stage going to Monticello Seminary,” Caleb said.

“We're not going to Brighton?”

“We have to choose.” Already Caleb had made up his mind. “We'll look for Jordan's father in Godfrey, then go to Brighton.”

Caleb grinned, as if glad to be doing something again. “I need to run. While I get Jordan and Peter, you buy us tickets.”

On one side of the depot, three stagecoach drivers waited. When Libby found one who was driving past the school for girls, she bought four tickets. “My friends will be coming,” she told the driver.

As Libby waited, each minute seemed to stretch into hours.
How far is the Rock House?
she wondered, then decided it must be about two miles from the riverfront. But she had learned one thing in Alton. Walking up the steep hills always took longer than she expected. Libby's leg muscles felt sore just thinking about the climb.

Growing more and more nervous, Libby kept watching all around her. Then, from far away on the downstream side of Alton, Libby heard a train whistle. Long and lonely it sounded, and it reminded Libby of how she missed Pa. In that moment she remembered they had promised to leave a message for him.

Quickly Libby stepped into the depot and scribbled a note about where they were headed. Here, too, the swindler was nowhere in sight, but Libby knew he could be in the waiting room set aside for men.

Soon after she returned to the stagecoach, Libby heard a closer whistle. A few minutes later, she saw the engine, then heard the clank of cars coming to a stop next to the station. As workers began unloading baggage, Caleb, Jordan, and Peter hurried up to Libby.

With relief, she gave the stagecoach tickets to Caleb. Opening the door of the stage, Caleb pushed Jordan toward one of the seats. But the driver stopped them.

“Coloreds on the top,” he said.

Caleb turned to him. “He's traveling with me.”

“Are you his owner?” the driver asked.

Caleb opened his mouth, but no words came. For an instant he stood there, as if trying to think of a way to answer without lying.

“Are you his owner?” the driver asked again.

Unwilling to lie, Caleb straightened. “No, sir, I'm not. I don't believe in owning anyone.”

Libby gulped. Caleb was going to start a scene right there.

“Then your friend has to go on top of the stage.”

An angry flush crept into Caleb's face. Libby tugged his sleeve, trying to warn him to stop. But suddenly Jordan stepped forward.

“Caleb, I like the view from the top.”

Already Jordan was scrambling up. Quickly settling himself between the carpetbags, he turned so that his face was hidden from anyone at the depot.

Caleb had no choice but to follow Libby and Peter onto the stage. When the three of them sat down on one of the red cushioned seats, Caleb exploded. “Someday this is going to change!”

Libby agreed, but before Jordan's quick decision to ride on top, she had seen him looking around. For some reason he wanted to leave in a hurry. Why?

With Peter sitting on one side and Caleb on the other, Libby leaned forward to look out a window. There, on the platform next to the train station, was the man Libby had hoped she would never see again. Jordan's owner, the slavetrader, Riggs!

As a large gentleman boarded the stage, Libby whispered in Caleb's ear. “Jordan knew we needed to leave.” She tipped her head toward the window.

When the gentleman sat down opposite Libby, she tapped the bag for Peter's slate. When he took it out, she wrote quickly, then held it so only Caleb and Peter could see: RIGGS!

Standing up, Caleb tried to see out the window on Peter's side. Finally he shrugged his shoulders as if to ask, “Where?”

Again Libby peered out the window. “He's gone,” she wrote. “Maybe he got on the train.”

Caleb shook his head, then spoke softly instead of writing. “That train just came from St. Louis,” he reminded her. “Unless—”

“Unless he took a breath of fresh air and went back on. Is that the train for Brighton?” Libby asked.

“Godfrey, then Brighton, then up the state of Illinois to Springfield and Chicago.”

His eyes wide, Peter poked Libby. “What's going on?”

Writing quickly, Libby explained that Riggs was the man from whom Jordan ran away. Still writing, she asked Caleb, “Do you think Riggs knows something we don't?”

“I wonder why he came from St. Louis right now.” This time Caleb remembered to write so that Peter understood.

“Maybe it's just a coincidence,” Libby answered.

“I wish I could believe that, but I can't.”

Libby's stomach tightened with nervousness. “You think that Riggs knows Jordan is in the area?”

“Remember what Riggs said the first time we saw him?” Caleb wrote. “That no slave ever got away from him alive. Maybe Riggs has a special hatred for Jordan because he
did
manage to get away.”

“Or else he knows Jordan's father.” Tugging at a strand of hair, Libby nervously twisted it around her finger. “Maybe Riggs knows that Micah Parker ran away too.”

“Either way, we're in big trouble,” Caleb said.

Just then a woman with two young children boarded the stagecoach. As they squeezed onto the seat next to the large gentleman, Libby thought,
Good! With the stagecoach full, the driver should leave
.

Again Peter poked her. Libby was only beginning to learn that he caught every expression in her eyes. Giving the secret sign for
danger ahead
and the letter
J
for Jordan, he raised his eyebrows. Libby knew Peter was asking a question.

Libby nodded.

Putting the palms of his hands together, Peter held them up, as if praying. In spite of her fear, Libby smiled. Where he had learned to pray, she didn't know, but she felt glad that Peter knew what to do.

When the driver called “Giddyup!” Libby drew a breath of relief. Yet she couldn't help wondering where they would see Riggs again.

CHAPTER 13