so startled him that he said nothing. I listened breathlessly to each
word Boss said: "Where did you learn to write?" asked he, "and when did
you learn? How long have you been writing to your mother?" At that
moment he produced the three letters which Tom had written. Boss, it
seems, had mistrusted something, and spoke to the postmaster, telling
him to stop any letters which Tom might mail for Virginia to his mother.
The postmaster did as directed, for slaves had no rights which
postmasters were bound to respect; hence, the letters fell into the
master's hands instead of going to their destination. Tom, not hearing
from his first letter, wrote a second, then a third, never dreaming that
they had been intercepted. Boss raged and Tom was severely whipped.
After this nothing Tom did pleased any of the family--it was a
continual pick on him. Everything was wrong with both of us, for they
were equally hard on me. They mistrusted, I think, that I could write;
yet I could not find out just what they did think.

* * * * *

TOM STRIKES FOR LIBERTY AND GAINS IT.

Tom stayed only a few weeks after this. He said to me, one morning:
"Lou, I am going away. If I can get a boat to-night that is starting
off, why, I am gone from this place." I was sad to see him go, for he
was like a brother to me--he was my companion and friend. He went, and
was just in time to catch the boat at the Memphis dock. He succeeded in
getting on, and made an application to the captain to work on the boat.
The captain did not hesitate to employ him, as it was common for slaves
to be permitted to hire themselves out for wages which they were
required to return, in whole or in part, to their masters. Of course all
such slaves carried a written pass to this effect. Tom was shrewd; and,