suspicion, and no one would venture to suggest that such a lady
could have the smallest sympathy for a runaway slave.

"She was down upon you pretty hot, Mr. Jackson," the sheriff said
as they rode off. "You don't seem to be in her good books."
Jackson muttered an imprecation.

"It is certainly odd," the sheriff went on, "after what you were
telling me about her son pitching into Andrew over flogging this
very slave, that she should go and buy his wife. Still, that's a very
different thing from hiding a runaway. I dare say that, as she says,
the fellow came here to see his wife when he first ran away; but I
don't think you will find him anywhere about here now. It's pretty
certain from what we hear that he hasn't made for the North, and
where the fellow can be hiding I can't think. Still the woods about
this country are mighty big, and the fellow can go out on to the
farms and pick corn and keep himself going for a long time. Still,
he's sure to be brought up sooner or later."

A thorough search was made of the slave-huts, and the slaves were
closely questioned, but all denied any knowledge of the runaway.
Dan escaped questioning, as he had taken up Vincent's horse to the
house in readiness for him to start as soon as he had finished
breakfast.

All day the searchers rode about the plantation examining every
clump of bushes, and assuring themselves that none of them had
been used as a place of refuge for the runaway.

"It's no good, Mr. Jackson," the sheriff said at last. "The man may