Free Race for Freedom by Lois Walfrid Johnson Page A

understand you’re Captain Norstad’s daughter.”
    “Why yes, I am.” Libby felt pleased that he knew.
    Politely the doctor tipped his hat. “Are you here by yourself?” he asked with concern. “My friends and I can see you safely back to the boat.” He glanced toward the two women walking with him.
    “Thank you, sir,” Libby said quickly. “I’ll be all right.”
But I’m sure glad you’re not Riggs
, she thought.
    “Are you certain?” The doctor’s voice was kind. “It seemed there was some kind of ruckus.”
    “Yes.” Libby steadied her voice. “A slight commotion.”
    “A runaway slave, you think?” the doctor asked. “If so, I hope the fugitive got away.”
    Libby breathed deeply.
Ahhh! The doctor is on our side
! How good it felt, knowing that.
    Libby opened her mouth, ready to tell him. Instead, she heard the warning from the large bell on the
Christina’s
roof. As she listened, Libby counted five taps of the clapper, a space, five more taps, another space, and a final five taps.
    “Fifteen minutes,” she said. “We need to hurry. If we don’t get back, the boat will leave without us.”
    While the doctor waited for her, she told him to go ahead. “I’m meeting a friend,” she said. “We’ll catch up.”
    As Doctor Hutton and the two ladies once more started down the hill, Libby stared after them. Gazing up and down the street, she felt frantic.
Where’s Jordan
?
    Quickly she ran to the fence and looked over.
Not there. But where is he?
    As the ten-minute warning bell rang, Libby’s panic grew. She had no choice but to follow Doctor Hutton. When she was halfway down the hill, she heard the gang of bullies returning. They were still running.
    Dividing into two groups, they raced up and down both sides of the street on which Libby walked. At each opening, the bullies ran between buildings, looked around, and returned. When the tall blond fellow reached an open shed, he stopped, peered inside, then hurried on.
    “Let’s try that other street!” Caleb called, pointing off in another direction. Once again the boys turned to follow him.
    Desperately Libby looked around. As she stood there, wondering what to do, a tiny little lady walked up to her.
    “Friend,” she said, “do you need some help?”
    Not sure how to answer, Libby stared at her. “Do you live here?” she asked finally.
    The woman smiled. “For many years. And I know how to help you. Look in that shed for your friend.” Tipping her head, she nodded across the street.
    Without another word the woman disappeared into a nearby building. Quickly Libby crossed the street. As she started past the shed, she heard a whisper.
    “Libby!”
    Stopping dead in her tracks, she listened.
    “Libby!” came the voice again.
    It was Jordan, all right, but where was he?
    Glancing around, Libby made sure that no one was watching.Then she peered into the shed. A number of big crates were stacked high.
    Slowly Libby walked into the shed and around the crates. She couldn’t see anyone. “Where are you?” she asked softly.
    “Be it safe?” came the whisper back.
    This time Libby looked up. The shadow from the roof fell across the uppermost crates. As her eyes grew used to the dim light, she saw Jordan lying on the top crate.
    “Just a minute.” Returning to the street, Libby gazed up and down. For now all the bullies were gone.
    “Hurry!” she said.
    With one quick movement, Jordan was off the crate and racing down the street.
    Shortly before Libby reached the waterfront, she found another notice. Ripping it down, she stuffed the paper into a pocket and kept walking.
    Ahead of her she saw Jordan. When he drew close to the
Christina
, he picked up a barrel. Balancing it on his shoulder, he tipped his head to hide his face and walked up the gangplank. A moment later he disappeared.
    As Libby started up the gangplank, Caleb caught up. “Meet us in the captain’s cabin,” he said in a low voice. Then he, too, disappeared.

CHAPTER