Free Race for Freedom by Lois Walfrid Johnson

else I can do for you? You come in on a steamboat?”
    “Yup,” Caleb said.
    “My brother Sam is on the river learning to be a pilot. If you ever see him, give him a howdy.”
    “Sure thing, mister.”
    When Caleb and Libby started back to the
Christina
, she saw Jordan leaning against a tree. As Caleb passed him, both he and Jordan acted as if they didn’t know each other. Yet when Libby glanced around, Jordan followed a short distance behind.
    Just then Libby heard the
Christina’s
deep-throated warning whistle—one long, two short, and one long. “They’re ready to board again,” she said.
    As Caleb picked up his pace, Libby saw a group of older boys around a notice nailed to a building. Some of the tough-looking fellows seemed familiar. With growing uneasiness Libby understood why. She felt sure they were passengers on the
Christina
.
    “Look!” a tall blond fellow said. “That’s a mighty big reward!”
    Libby’s uneasiness changed to fear. Strong and rowdy looking, the fellow was probably nineteen or twenty years old.
    Next to him stood another fellow of about the same age. With dark brown hair, he, too, looked like a bully ready to fight.
    Sure that she knew what she’d find, Libby edged forward to read the poster. The words jumped out at her.
    $200.00 Reward .
Runaway,
a black boy named
JORDAN PARKER ,
about 15 or 16 years of age,
five feet, eleven inches, or six feet tall,
last seen wearing tattered cotton shirt.
Strongly built, walks with head high and a proud air….
    “Two hundred dollars!” the blond bully exclaimed. “What I could do with that kind of money!”
    Trying to not show her fear, Libby stepped back and looked for Caleb. Not far behind her, he, too, had turned. Now he edged out farther into the street. As though nothing important were happening, he stood there, waiting.
    Walking on the other side, Jordan drew close. When Caleb’s gaze met his, Caleb glanced toward the bullies.
    Jordan’s head jerked up. As if suddenly aware of danger, his eyes widened. Yet he walked on without changing his pace.
    What do I do
? thought Libby, then knew she had to pretend nothing was wrong. Walking on her own side of the street, she started after Jordan. She had almost caught up when she heard a shout from behind.
    “There he is!” came the cry. “See that proud look? We’ll take care of him!”
    Libby whirled around. The bully with brown hair pointed down the hill toward Jordan.
    “That’s him, all right!” another fellow called out.
    In the next instant, Jordan broke into a run. At the first break in the line of buildings, he darted between two of them. Reaching a high board fence, he put his hands on top, flipped over, and disappeared.
    Libby stared back up the street. Shouting and waving their arms, the gang of bullies raced toward her. As though part of the pack, Caleb joined them.
    As the bullies drew close to Libby, Caleb shouted loudly, “Which way did he go?”
    “That way!” The blond bully pointed toward the fence.
    Caleb pointed in the opposite direction. “Go that way!”
    With a burst of speed, Caleb took the lead. Still running like a pack, the gang followed him. Between tall warehouses they raced with Caleb urging them on.
    Filled with terror, Libby stared after them. When the bullies came back, they would surely search where Jordan had disappeared.
    Slowly Libby turned. She hardly dare look, but when she did, she saw fingers grasp the top of the fence. Suddenly Jordan leaped back over, landing in the street across from where Libby stood.
    Staying close to the buildings, Jordan once again headed toward the
Christina
.
    Jordan
! Libby wanted to cry out.
You’re not safe yet!
But just then a man spoke from directly behind her.
    Libby gasped. Her heart pounded with fright.
    “Good day, Miss Libby,” Doctor Hutton said. Above his salt-and-pepper beard, his cheeks were ruddy. He looked over the glasses perched halfway down his nose.
    “You know my name?” Libby asked.
    “I