have been here; he ain't here now. The only place we haven't;
searched is the house, and you may be quite sure the slaves dare
not conceal him there. Too many would get to know it. No, sir,
he's made a bolt of it, and you will have to wait now till he is
caught by chance, or shot by some farmer or other in the act of
stealing."

"I would lay a thousand dollars," Andrew Jackson exclaimed
passionately, "that young Wingfield knows something about his
whereabouts, and has lent him a hand!"

"Well, I should advise you to keep your mouth shut about it till
you get some positive proof," the sheriff said dryly. "I tell you it's
no joke to accuse a member of a family like the Wingfields of
helping runaway slaves to escape."

"I will bide my time," the planter said. "You said that some day
you would lay hands on Tony dead or alive. You see if some day I
don't lay hands on young Wingfield."

"Well, it seems, Mr. Jackson," the sheriff remarked with a sneer, for
he was out of temper at the ill success of the day's work, "that he
has already laid hands on your son. It seems to me quite as likely
that he will lay hands on you as you on him."

Two days afterward as Vincent was riding through the streets of
Richmond he saw to his surprise Andrew Jackson in close
conversation with Jonas Pearson.

"I wonder what those two fellows are talking about?" he said to