Race for Freedom
Page 3
“Please, Libby.” Captain Norstad’s voice was gentle, but there was no denying his request for obedience. “After you talk to Caleb, try to get back to your room. Stay there till the men leave.”
Never before had Libby disobeyed Pa’s orders, but this time she waited, not wanting to leave.
“Hurry!” he said. Even now Libby heard the sounds of men coming up the stairs. Pa pushed her out the door toward the stairs on the other side of the Christina.
“Don’t make a sound,” he whispered. “Find Caleb.”
Without another word Libby hurried down the steps. As she reached the deck below, she heard loud pounding on the door of her father’s cabin.
“Open up!” a man called. Libby felt sure it was Riggs.
Libby ran on, searching the boiler deck for Caleb. To her relief she found him in the area where first-class passengers took their exercise.
“Riggs is here,” Libby said quickly.
“I know,” Caleb answered. “It’s all right.”
“What do you mean it’s all right?” Libby felt angry. Caleb looked as calm as her father. Was Caleb used to this kind of thing?
“Everything will be okay,” Caleb said. “Stop looking so scared.”
“I’m not scared,” Libby answered.
“Yes, you are. You look like a jackrabbit fleeing for your life. Go hide your face.”
“Hide my face? What do you mean?”
“Go to your room,” Caleb answered. “Don’t let Riggs or his men see you.”
“But they’ll arrest Pa!”
Caleb refused to listen. Without another word he stalked off. Libby stared at his back, then took the stairs two at a time. By the time she reached the texas deck, her heart was in her throat.
Gasping for breath, Libby slipped inside her room. Quickly she pulled the shutters that hid her from the deck. Without a sound she crossed to the other side of her room and closed those shutters too.
From her father’s cabin, Libby heard the sound of men’s voices—angry voices making demands. Then a door opened. Crouching down next to her bed, Libby listened, every sense alert.
Rough voices and the sound of heavy feet filled the deck. As the men passed her room, Libby waited, holding her breath. Would Riggs search from one stateroom to the next? Passengers were still in bed.
Then Libby heard her father’s voice. “You see?” he asked from just outside her room. “All is quiet on the river this morning.”
It was a warning, Libby knew—a warning to remain where she was, making no sound.
After what seemed forever, she heard the men going down a stairway to the boiler deck just below. Libby pulled back a shutter just a crack.
Soon she opened it all the way. Standing in the doorway, she listened.
No longer could Libby hear the men. Still on bare feet, she took the few steps from the texas to the hurricane deck. As she crept forward, she heard men’s voices again. Libby felt sure they were going down the wide steps at the front of the boat. Even on the thick red carpeting, their boots sounded heavy.
On her knees, Libby peered over the low railing on the hurricane deck. Though two decks away, she could hear shouted orders.
“Push it aside!” That was Riggs, standing at the bow of the boat.
When he glanced up, Libby ducked behind the railing. Soon she heard crates scraping across the deck and barrels tipped roughly over. Then someone slammed something wooden.
Rising up, Libby again looked over the railing. One of the men had thrown back the cover of a hatch near the bow. When Riggs started down into the hold, other men followed. Watching them, Libby grew more and more nervous. Captain Norstad had told Jordan to go to the engine room when the Christina was in port. But what about times like now? Was that what Caleb and Jordan had been doing—building a place to hide?
It bothered Libby that Riggs seemed to know where that place might be. A cold fist tightened around her heart. When they find Jordan, they’ll arrest Pa.
Waiting for what seemed forever, Libby watched and listened. Finally she saw Riggs come up from the hold. One of his men slammed down the hatch. Crates and barrels scraped against the deck.
“Try another hatch!” That was Riggs again, and Libby felt sure he would search each section of the hold.
Following his orders, the men moved back along the side of the Christina. When one of them called out from near the stairway, Libby remembered. Pa told me to stay in my room. If a man crept up the stairs, he’d find me!
In spite of her curiosity, Libby hurried back, slipped inside her room, and pulled the shutters almost closed. Her hands trembled as she waited, listening for any sound of men coming back up the steps.
An hour later Libby sensed a change. No more slammed hatches, she thought. No loud voices or men stomping up and down. Instead, the decks seemed strangely quiet.
Tiptoeing, Libby crept out of her room to the edge of the hurricane deck. Again she knelt down and peered over the railing.
Soon Libby spied Riggs on the far end of the gangplank. When he stepped onto the landing, Libby saw only his back. Yet she knew what had happened by the way he walked. The cruel slave trader was angry. So were the men with him.
They didn’t find Jordan! Libby wanted to jump up and down and dance with relief. To laugh and cry all at once. To shout the good news to the whole world. Jordan’s safe! And so is Pa! At least for the moment.
Then Libby faced a new fear. Riggs will come back. How? And where? And when? Chills chased down Libby’s spine just thinking about it.
A moment later another thought struck her. If Riggs can’t find where Jordan hides, how can I?
Slowly she got to her feet and went down the stairs looking for Caleb. Once again Libby had more questions than answers.
“C’mon, Libby,” Caleb said after breakfast the next morning. “I’ll show you how to be a runner.”
“What’s a runner?” Libby stood high on the hurricane deck, watching all that was going on. She wanted to explore the streets and shops of St. Louis, to meet its people, to watch the long trains of pioneer wagons leaving for the West.
“A runner drums up business for a steamboat.” Caleb grinned. “We stand near the gangplank and tell people how great we are.”
As he and Libby started toward the stairs, Caleb explained. In large cities steamboats competed for both passengers and freight. Captains sent boys such as Caleb onto the levees or landings to direct people to their steamboat and bring in whatever business they could.
Libby hung back. “What if Riggs is watching the Christina? What if he sees us out in front?”
Caleb shrugged. “He already knows we’re here. Why do you think he brought that search warrant? He figures that wherever he sees me, he’ll find Jordan.”
“Doesn’t that bother you?” Libby still hoped that Riggs wouldn’t recognize her. “If Riggs knows me, too, why didn’t Pa want him to see me?”
Stopping on the wide stairway leading to the main deck, Caleb grinned. “Your Pa knows that your face could get all of us arrested.”
“My face?” Libby asked. “It’s not that bad!”
“Your big brown eyes show too much. If you look scared, you’ll give the rest of us away.”
Still not convinced that she wanted to be a runner, Libby trailed down the stairs after Caleb.
“If Riggs comes near you, don’t show him what you’re thinking,” Caleb went on. “You’ll get Jordan in big trouble.”
More than once Libby had admired Caleb for being able to hide his thoughts from slave catchers. Now Libby doubted that she could do the same. All her life she had leaped before looking and talked before thinking.
“When he searched yesterday, Riggs couldn’t find Jordan.” It made Libby curious. Somehow she would discover the Christina’s hiding place, but she knew Caleb would never tell her.
“That’s why we want to stay a jump ahead of him,” Caleb answered. “Riggs knows we’re doing something. He knows it involves runaway slaves. If he c
atches us at it, he’ll collect rewards for a lot of slaves. Think of all the money he’ll get!”
Libby’s hands tightened into fists. She felt angry toward the cruel slave trader. Angry because of the way Riggs could harm Jordan and Pa and Caleb. Angry at the fugitive slave laws such as the Compromise of 1850 that gave slave catchers the right to search for runaways even in free states.
“So how do I become a runner?” Libby asked.
“You tell people about the Christina.” On the wide stairway leading to the main deck, Caleb stepped closer and lowered his voice. “While you’re doing that, watch for Riggs.”
“For Riggs?” Libby blurted out. Always he made her feel like a hunted animal. If he does that to me, it must be one hundred times worse for Jordan.
“You want me to watch for Riggs?” Libby asked a little too loudly.
“Shhh!” Caleb warned. “That’s what I mean. You’ll give us away!”
CHAPTER 4
Unwanted Passenger
I don’t want to even think about Riggs!” Libby tossed her long hair and wished she could be far away from danger.
In the middle of the main deck, Caleb stopped. “You better think about him.” Caleb’s voice was still low. “Pretend that you’re a slave trader like Riggs. If you searched a steamboat and didn’t find the runaway you’re looking for, what would you do next?”
Libby thought for a moment. “I’d come on board as a passenger.”
“Yup!” Caleb’s grin told Libby that maybe she was making progress. “Riggs will probably use a different name. But all we have to do is spot him when he boards the Christina.”
“All!” Libby exclaimed. “Pa says this could be the most crowded trip of the season. How many people does that mean?”
“If we do our job, there could be over three hundred, counting the crew,” Caleb said.
The difficulty of finding one person among so many frightened Libby. “If we miss Riggs, he’ll find out everything he wants to know. Sooner or later he’ll accuse Pa of hiding a fugitive.”
“That’s why I need your help,” Caleb told her. “If everyone was in one place at one time, it wouldn’t be so hard. But there are too many places to hide. If Riggs comes on board, it’s better that we know.”
Caleb headed down the gangplank. “Bet I spot him before you do.”
His words made finding the slave catcher a game to Libby. Though Caleb didn’t want her taking part in the Underground Railroad, she’d prove that she could be useful. Maybe he’d learn to trust her.
“Tell me what to do,” she said.
“I’ll show you. Your pa wants a full load of freight and passengers for St. Paul. We’ll get it for him.”
Here, next to the water, the noise and traffic seemed overwhelming. On the levee Caleb took a place near the gangplank. “Ladies and gentlemen!” he shouted. “For the safest ride on the river, choose the Christina! Choose Captain Norstad, the most reliable captain on the Mississippi! Sixteen years of safe travel! Sixteen years of bringing passengers to where they want to be!”
As Libby watched, people turned their heads. Some kept walking, looking up at the steamboats as though deciding which one to take. Others stopped to listen.
“Step right up, folks!” Caleb called out. “Book your passage all the way to St. Paul!”
When passengers came close to Caleb, he talked to them. “Sign up now for the cleanest boat on the river. Food to make your mouth water! My Granny makes the pastries, and see how tall I’ve grown!”
As soon as Caleb answered their questions, he guided the first-class passengers toward the gangplank and told them to find the office. He brought the deckers, or deck passengers, over to a young man, saying,
“Here you are, folks! Mr. Martin will help you.”
Called the mud clerk because in most towns he stood in the mud, young Martin checked freight on and off the Christina. He also took the fares of deck passengers.
As a horse-drawn wagon filled with crates rumbled past, Caleb changed his cry. “Ship your freight all the way to Minnesota Territory! We’ll get your valuable goods wherever you want in the fastest time!”
“Whoa!” The teamster pulled back on the reins. “Whoa!” Coming to a stop, he gazed up at the Christina. “To St. Paul, eh?” he asked Caleb.
“Yup! Safe handling for all your freight! No sitting on a wharf waiting for another boat. Straight from St. Louis to St. Paul!”
“How much?”
Turning, Caleb motioned to the mud clerk, and Martin stepped forward. Soon he and the man reached an agreement. Deckhands from the Christina began loading the crates.
Before long, a passenger led a cow up the gangplank. Tossing her head against the rope around her neck, the cow rolled her eyes in fear. On his back another man carried a slatted crate with chickens.
Watching Caleb’s success, Libby gathered up her courage. “Take the Christina to St. Paul!” she shouted. “Safest boat on the river!”
The moment the words left her lips, Libby wished she could call them back. At times she found it hard to believe that any steamboat could be safe. Yet if there was such a thing, she felt sure it would be her father’s.
Once again Libby called out. This time she thought about Auntie Vi. During four long years, she had tried to turn Libby into a proper young lady. What would Auntie say if she saw me now?
In the middle of a sentence, Libby choked. The passengers listening to her turned away.
Moments later Libby’s father walked out on the main deck. When he saw Libby on the levee, he waved at her. As Libby’s shyness fell away, she knew what to say.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” she called out. “Best father—best steamboat captain in the business! Ride the Christina, and know your captain cares about you!”
Turning toward the steamboat, Libby saw Pa’s face. When he dropped one eyelid in a long slow wink, Libby winked back. Seeing his grin, she felt warm with his love.
The next deckers who came along stopped to talk with her. When they bought tickets from Martin, Libby felt excited. She actually could do this!
As she kept on calling, Libby watched every passenger who approached the Christina. She paid little attention to the women and the tall, heavyset men. During the next hour, she saw at least three short, slender men, but none of them reminded her of Riggs.
Throughout the morning, workers hurried up and down the gangplank loading freight. The crates and barrels going all the way to St. Paul went into the hull. Deckhands opened hatches and slid the freight down ramps into the hold.
While Caleb kept watch, Libby took a break for lunch. As she passed an open hatch on the main deck, she looked down into the hole. Because the Christina needed to go into the shallow waters of the upper Mississippi, the hull was only five feet deep. It was divided into compartments by long, solid pieces of wood called bulkheads. These bulkheads stretched from the bow of the boat to the stern and provided the framework for the hull. Bulkheads also helped the crew load the boat in such a way that the freight didn’t shift around.
When Libby finished eating, Samson followed her down the gangplank. “Stay!” she told him when she reached the levee. In spite of his gentle nature, Samson was so large that he might frighten away passengers. Samson tipped his head and dropped down next to Libby.
“I’ll watch for Riggs while you eat,” Libby whispered to Caleb. With a bound he was up the gangplank and out of sight.
The midday sun was warm now. Standing on the levee, Libby looked around. As far as she could see in either direction, steamboats lay with their bows nosed into the levee. When Libby compared the activity around the Christina, she felt good. She and Caleb had brought in more than enough business for her father.
In the next instant, her warm feelings vanished. Directly ahead of her, a well-dressed man walked straight toward the Christina. With every sure-of-himself step he took, Libby felt more uneasy. Short and slender, the man carried a cane, but he didn’t need it for walking.
That’s Rig
gs! Libby thought.
Then Libby saw that the man had a handlebar mustache. The mustache spread wide and curled up on both sides. That can’t be Riggs, Libby thought. He couldn’t possibly grow such a big mustache since yesterday!
Moments later Libby changed her mind again. He could wear a false mustache!
Libby whirled around. Caleb, where are you?
Not catching even a glimpse of him, Libby turned back. Near the gangplank at least twenty or thirty passengers waited to board. The man who looked like Riggs stopped behind them.
If he comes on board, he’ll hunt for Jordan! Libby thought frantically.
Again she turned toward the Christina. If only I could race up the gangplank, search for Caleb, call his name!
Filled with panic, Libby stared at the passengers again. The crowd had grown even larger. While deckers waited to pay their fare, first-class passengers moved around them and up the gangplank.
Just then a deckhand carrying a large trunk stepped in front of Libby. A second man followed with another trunk on his shoulder. Desperately, Libby moved from side to side, trying to see around them.
The moment the deckhands walked on, Libby searched the crowd again. Nowhere did she spy the man she thought was Riggs. He has to be here!
Just then Libby saw a nail keg near the gangplank. Racing over, she jumped onto it. With the added height, she had a better view of the entire crowd.
As she studied each face, Libby felt sick. The man who looks like Riggs is gone!
The minute Caleb returned, Libby told him what had happened.
“You don’t know whether the man boarded or not?” Caleb asked.
Libby still felt upset. “He stopped toward the back of the crowd. He could have taken another steamboat. Or he might have gone up the gangplank when I couldn’t see.”
“What did he look like?” Caleb asked.
“Exactly like Riggs, except for one thing. He had a handlebar mustache with a stiff curl on each side. Maybe it’s a disguise.”
Caleb nodded. “Good thinking. A big mustache would hide the frown lines in his face.”
“So what do we do?” Libby asked as a man with a gray-and-white beard set down his bags in front of young Martin.