Otis leaned out of the door and looked about. "You're not thieves, are you? I ain't got nothin' worth stealing."
"No, sir, we don't want anything except a bite to eat."
Otis took another look at Jenny. Her muddy legs, disheveled overalls, her shirt hanging out at the sides, her oversized cap resting on her ears, made her look like anything but a thief. When he looked at her face, she managed a wan smile.
"Well, let 'em come along, then," said Otis. "But like I said, I ain't got nothin' worth takin'."
Jenny was too tired to show any enthusiasm. She walked part way toward her companions and motioned them to come up to the house. Otis was convinced they weren't thieves once they had assembled in front of him.
"Hi," said Mr. Marsten, extending his hand. "I'm Ed Marsten and this is my daughter Jenny."
Otis stared for a moment before extending his hand. Mr. Marsten was dressed in a business suit. His pants were covered with mud up to the knees. His jacket looked like it had been dragged through the dirt and slept in.
"Otis Steinbach. Pleased to meet you," he said, shaking Mr. Marsten's hand.
The rest of the company introduced themselves. Otis' gaze fell mostly on Jenny and Janet.
"These two are the runaway slaves?" he asked, indicating Jenny and Janet.
"Yes," said Maurice.
"Well, if that's not the strangest thing," he said. "If you can get out of those muddy clothes, you're welcome to come in. Let me get you something to wash up with."
He disappeared into the house and came back with a bucket of water.
"You can rinse off some of that mud with this," he said as he set down the bucket.
After rinsing off as much mud as they could, the party, in various stages of undress, followed Otis into a large living room littered with old, worn furniture.
"Have a seat," he said. "I don't keep much food around. All I can offer you are a couple boxes of crackers and some canned sardines."
The fugitives devoured all that they were given while Otis looked on. When they were done, Jenny and Janet offered to clear away the paper plates and empty sardine cans. Otis told them they would find a garbage pail next to the drain board.
While Jenny and Janet were in the kitchen, Maurice spoke with Otis.
"I know it's an imposition, but could we spend the night here? We'll be away to the nearest town tomorrow."
"That's a long walk," said Otis, "about twenty miles. You see, this house was built out here on purpose. Back in the 1850's it was a way station for runaway slaves. Never thought I'd see any myself, though."
Jenny and Janet returned from the kitchen, sat next to each other on the floor, and leaned against the wall. Maurice, Mr. Marsten, and Mr. Fouchet assured Otis that he would be paid for helping them reach the nearest town.
"Well, that's very nice of you," said Otis, "but it's not necessary. Could you answer me something?"
"Of course," said Maurice.
"I've lived here all my life, but I've only been to the states a few times. I've never been to one of those places where they have slaves. What's it like there? I mean, what's it like for the slaves? Are they treated well?"
Maurice shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "No," he answered, "I'd say they aren't treated very well." Maurice went on to describe, in general terms, what a slave's life was like. Mr. Marsten and Mr. Fouchet listened for a few minutes, but weariness gradually overtook them.
To Maurice, Otis appeared rather disturbed by the description of life at DiMarcos.
"Well," said Otis, "that doesn't sound too nice. Tell me, how'd you manage to get them two out of there?"
Maurice detailed their flight from DiMarcos, carefully omitting to mention that Teri was a felon. Otis got rather excited when Maurice described how they were nearly caught by the police.
"By the way," said Maurice. "We saw something very strange a while ago. We came to a clearing and there were two lights sticking up out of the ground. Do you know what they are?"
"Lights?" asked Otis. "Stuck in the ground?" He pondered for a minute. "No, I can't think what that might be."
Maurice again described what the party had seen, this time in more detail.
"How tall did you say those lights were?" asked Otis.
"About four feet, I'd guess," answered Maurice.
"Only one thing I can think of," said Otis, "but it's only a guess. There are markers along the border, made out of stainless steel. They're about as high as you say these lights were. But they're just steel, no lights in 'em."
"Do you think they could reflect moonlight?" asked Maurice.
"Well, I guess they could, but I've never seen it. 'Course, I don't go wandering across the border at night, neither."
By this time, Mr. Marsten and Mr. Fouchet were asleep on the couch and Maurice couldn't stifle his yawns.
"I should let you get some sleep," said Otis standing up. "Sorry to keep you up, but I just had to ask you about how the slaves lived and how you got away. My ancestors had slaves come to this very house, many times. It happened long before my grandfather was born, but when I was a boy granddad told me what he'd heard from his grandfather. And you know? What he said and what I just heard from you are mighty similar."
He looked over at Jenny and Janet who were now sleeping on the floor, Janet on her back and Jenny's head resting on Janet's chest. "So that little girl there who knocked on my door is a runaway slave," he said wonderingly.
"She's a runaway, Mr. Steinbach," said Maurice, "but she's not a slave any more."
THE END
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