called to him, "Follow."

"It seems to me that Josh might have been able to get home to-night,"
said Mr. Leckler, walking up and down his veranda; "but I reckon it's
just possible that he got through too late to catch a train." In the
morning he said: "Well, he's not here yet; he must have had to do some
extra work. If he doesn't get here by evening, I'll run up there."

In the evening, he did take the train for Joshua's place of
employment, where he learned that his slave had left the night before.
But where could he have gone? That no one knew, and for the first time
it dawned upon his master that Josh had run away. He raged; he fumed;
but nothing could be done until morning, and all the time Leckler knew
that the most valuable slave on his plantation was working his way
toward the North and freedom. He did not go back home, but paced the
floor all night long. In the early dawn he hurried out, and the hounds
were put on the fugitive's track. After some nosing around they set
off toward a stretch of woods. In a few minutes they came yelping
back, pawing their noses and rubbing their heads against the ground.
They had found the trail, but Josh had played the old slave trick of
filling his tracks with cayenne pepper. The dogs were soothed, and
taken deeper into the wood to find the trail. They soon took it up
again, and dashed away with low bays. The scent led them directly to a
little wayside station about six miles distant. Here it stopped.
Burning with the chase, Mr. Leckler hastened to the station agent.
Had he seen such a negro? Yes, he had taken the northbound train two
nights before.

"But why did you let him go without a pass?" almost screamed the
owner.