slaves north. He said, ‘If your Pa’s running a mining company, where’s he mining? If he’s got to move his mining goods, where the cows and the wagons he’s using for that purpose?’ He says he’s coming back with a bunch of deputies to search the house.”
“When?”
“Saturday next.”
The Old Man thunk over it a moment.
“Was one of our men in the yard? One of the Negroes?” Kagi asked.
“It doesn’t matter. Just wait a minute,” the Old Man said.
He lingered a long moment before speaking, standing there, swaying a little. He looked nearly insane by then. His beard flowed nearly to his belt buckle. His suit was ragged to near pieces. He still wore the fisherman’s hat from his disguise, and beneath it his face looked like a wrinkled mop. He had all kinds of problems going on. The curtain was pulled back off the thing. Several men had written letters home to their mamas saying good-bye, causing all kinds of suspicion, with the mamas writing to the Old Man saying, “Send my boy home.” His daughter- in-law Martha, Oliver’s wife, was pregnant and bawling every half hour; some of the white folks who’d given him money for his fight against slavery now wanted it back; others had written letters tellin’ congressmen and government folks ’bout what they’d heard; his money people in Boston was bugging him ’bout how big his army was. He had all kinds of problems with the weapons, too. Had forty thousand primers without the right caps. The house was loaded with men who was tightly wound up and cooped in that tiny attic that was so crowded it was unbearable. The weight of the thing would’a knocked any man insane. But he weren’t a normal man, being that he was already part insane in a manner of speaking. Still, he seemed put out.
He stood there, swaying a minute, and said, “That is not a problem. We’ll move on Sunday.”
“That’s in four days!” Kagi exclaimed.
“If we don’t go now, we may never go.”
“We can’t move in four days! We got everybody coming on the twenty-third!”
“Them that’s coming will be here in four days.”
“The twenty-third is only a week from Sunday.”
“We haven’t got a week,” the Old Man snorted. “We move this Sunday, October sixteenth. Whoever wants to write home, do it now. Tell the men.”
Kagi didn’t need to do that, for several was gathered ’round listening and had already written home, being cooped up in the attic with nothing to do but write. “How we gonna pass the word to the colored?” Stevens asked.
“We don’t need to. Most of the colored that’s supposed to be here will come. We got five from Chambersburg, five from Boston that Merriman’s promised. Plus the men from around here. Plus those from Canada.”
“I wouldn’t count the men from Canada,” Kagi said. “Not without Douglass.”
The Old Man frowned. “We still got twenty-nine overall men to my count,” he said.
“Fourteen who ain’t present and accounted for,” Kagi said.
The Old Man shrugged. “They’ll hive from everywhere once we get started. The Bible says, ‘He who moves without trust cannot be trusted.’ Trust in God, Lieutenant.”
“I don’t believe in God.”
“Doesn’t matter. He believes in you.”
“What about the General?”
“I just got a letter from her,” the Old Man said. “She’s ill and can’t come. She gived us the Rail Man. That’s enough. He’ll spread the word among her people.”
He turned to me. “Onion, hurry down to the Ferry and wait for the train. When the B&O comes in, tell the Rail Man we’re movin’ on the sixteenth, not the twenty-third. That’s a week early.”
“I better do that,” Kagi said.
“No,” the Old Man said. “They’re onto us now. You’ll be stopped and questioned. They won’t bother with a colored girl. I need you men here. We got a lot to do. Got to fetch the rest of the Sharps rifles and prep ’em. Got to get the tow balls and primers ready, got the pikes to unpack. And we got to get Annie and Martha up the highway within a day, two at most. Onion will ready them when she gets back. For she’s going with them. I’ll not have women here when we make our charge.”
That made my heart leap with happiness.
“How will they go?” Kagi asked.
“My son Salmon’ll take ’em up to Philadelphia. They can take the train to upstate New York from there. No more time to talk, Lieutenant. Let’s move.”
I hustled down the rail yard at the Ferry singing like a bird, happy as all get-out. I waited under the bank for the one twenty-five B&O, hoping it weren’t late, for I didn’t want to be left behind. I weren’t gonna miss my ride out of there in no way, shape, form, or fashion. I would let them drop me off in Philadelphia. I had waited a long time to get there. I could leave guilt-free. The Old Man had gived me his blessing.
Thanks be to God, that thing rolled in on time. I waited till all the passengers emptied. The train had to huff and chug up another few feet to take on water, and when it stopped at the water tower, I runned down to seek out the Rail Man. I saw him near the back of the train, movin’ passengers’ bags into the station and onto waiting wagons. I waited till he was done. He moved to the other side of the train near the caboose and congregated with another colored porter. I approached him there, and when the other porter seen me coming, that feller slipped away. He knowed my deal and I was arsenic to him, but the Rail Man seen me, and without a word nodded to the spot under the bank where we met before and stepped back onto the train.
I rushed down to the bank and waited for him, standing in the shadow of the trestle, so as not to be seen. He came down shortly and he was hot. He placed his back on the trestle post and he talked with his back to me. But he was still hot. “Didn’t I tell you not to come here?” he said.
“Change of plans. The Old Man’s rolling in four days.”
“Four days? You funning me!” he said.
“I ain’t,” I said. “I’m just tellin’ you.”
“Tell him I can’t get that many people together in four days. I just got the ball rolling.”
“Bring what you got, then, for he is dedicated to that time,” I said.
“I need another week. The twenty-third is what he said.”
“The twenty-third is out. He’s going this Sunday.”
“The General is sick. Don’t he know that?”
“That ain’t my problem.”
“Course it ain’t. All’s you worried ’bout is your own skin, you little ferret.”
“You raising a ruckus with the wrong person. Whyn’t you pick on somebody your own size?”
“Watch your mouth or I’ll level you off, ya varmint.”
“Least I ain’t a thief. For all I know, you done took the Old Man’s money for nothing and gonna not show up like the rest.”
The Rail Man was a big man, and he had his back to me. But now he turned and grabbed me by the dress and lifted me clear off the ground.
“One more cockeyed word out that fast little hole in your face, you little snit, and I’ll throw you in the river.”
“I’m just tellin’ you what the Old Man said! He said he’s movin’ in four days!”
“I heard it! Saddle your tongue with the rest. I’ll have here who I can. Tell your Old Man to stop the train before it gets to the bridge on the Potomac. Don’t let it get across. Stop it there and give me a password.”
“What’s that?”
“A word. A sign. Ain’t they got passwords and all they use on your side?”
“Nobody said nothing ’bout that.”
He placed me down. “Shit. Some kind of damn operation this is.”
“So can I tell the Captain you know?”
“Tell ’em I know. Tell ’em I’ll bring who I can.”
“What else?”
