He handed me back the note, and off I started. I knew not what to do,
but was determined not to be whipped. I went up to the jail--took a look
at it, and walked off again. As Mr. Walker was acquainted with the
jailer, I feared that I should be found out if I did not go, and be
treated in consequence of it still worse.

While I was meditating on the subject, I saw a colored man about my size
walk up, and the thought struck me in a moment to send him with my note.
I walked up to him, and asked him who he belonged to. He said he was a
free man, and had been in the city but a short time. I told him I had a
note to go into the jail, and get a trunk to carry to one of the
steamboats; but was so busily engaged that I could not do it, although I
had a dollar to pay for it. He asked me if I would not give him the job.
I handed him the note and the dollar, and off he started for the jail.

I watched to see that he went in, and as soon as I saw the door close
behind him, I walked around the corner, and took my station, intending
to see how my friend looked when he came out. I had been there but a
short time, when a colored man came around the corner, and said to
another colored man with whom he was acquainted--

"They are giving a nigger scissors in the jail."

"What for?" said the other. The man continued,

"A nigger came into the jail, and asked for the jailer. The jailer came
out, and he handed him a note, and said he wanted to get a trunk. The
jailer told him to go with him, and he would give him the trunk. So he
took him into the room, and told the nigger to give up the dollar. He
said a man had given him the dollar to pay for getting the trunk. But