Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1899-02-04
& TIE UNDOING OF 0
Al ADOUBLE \
a BY HUGO5T FINSTERRE, MD.
4 AUTH0R 0F"MHO0 WHOT ETLtTG|
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CONTINUED
CHAPTER XIII.

stepson to know that they had moved
down stream. Therefore l shaped my
course i'll the opposite direction.
1t was perhaps 100 yards or more
from where | had crossed on the curv-
ing tree trunk that l had paused once
more to listen for sounds of my pur-
suers. Instead of hearing anything of
that nature l heard a splash in the wa
ter to my left. Curious to learn what
it meant, | took a single step forward
and looked up and down stream.
4 couple of rods off | saw dugout,
with an aged negro sitting in it care
fully padding with single oar. There
was Il bundle of something in the front
of the primitive boat, but could not
identify it i'll the gloom. The black
mans back was toward me, so that he
was ascending the sluggish current in
the opposite direction from that taken
by my pursuers The negro wore a
dilapidated straw hat, through which
caught glimpse of his grizzly wool.
Despite this sign of age, his shoulders
were erect, and evidently he was man
of great muscular power.
He was padding with such care and
moving so slowly that formed the cor
rect conclusion regarding him. He lived
somewhere in the depths of Black Man S
swamp and had been out on a fOraging
expedition and was now returning to
his home with the proceeds thereof.
Aware that he was suspected of such
dOings and knowing he would be pun
ished if detected he was stealing his
way back with all the care he could
command.
Having been guided mainly by the
impulse Of the moment thus far, acted
upon the thought that came to me.
"HOld on there, unclen'
The negro turned like a flash. Even
in the obscurity | could understand the
expression Of mortal fear ON the ebOn
countenance as he held the paddle sus-
pended as if unable to stir or speak
Stepping cut from the shadows so
that he might see me. | added:
Come inshore. l don't mean to
hurt you
My assurance partly removed his
panic, and, dipping his paddle into the
water, he sheered the dugout up to
where l was standing perceived that
he was wearing large horn spectacles
and | took him to be fully threescore
and ten years old.
"What's your name?" l asked, try
ing to throw note of kindness in my
voice.
pete, was the reply in the accent
CT his race. | noted that he was atten-
lively studying my countenance, as if
trying to solve my identity. | expected
each moment to hear him address me
as Hank Boyer and was surprised that
he did not do So Finally he asked in a
quaking voice:
"Who am yo'?"
"Don't you know me, Pete?" asked,
shifting my pose SO as to permit the
star gleam to fall on my features. The
spectaclcs moved first Oh one side and
then on another as he peered into my
cOuntenance. Curious to learn his rea-
SOD. | asked:
"Don't you know Hank Boyer, Pete?"
Il hab knowed him eber since he was
r pickaninny. YO' look good deal like
him, but yo' amt him dat's sartin.
was astOnished Under the glare of
the lamps and when the sun was shin
ing every white man whom l encoun-
tered was unshakably convinced that l
was Hank Boyer, the criminal. And
now in the dim Obscurity of a Missis-
sippi swamp an old negro wearing horn
spectlCles read the truth. With my vir-
tual declaration that was Boyer he de-
clared such not to be the fact.
'Well, Pete, You are right, said
II am not Hank Boyer. | am from the
north and until n short time ago had
never set foot i'll Mississippi. Every one
whom | have met with the exception of
you believes | am Hank Boyer"
Cause dey am IA set oh blasted
fools, was his eontemptuous reply
"Yo'r voice don't sound like his. Dat
is not much, dough it's little, and
and-somehow or oder yo' don't seem
like Hank, and yo' amt him."
That was probably the best way of
expressing it.
1t looked as if Pete might be made
the valuable ally of which 1 stood in
need.
~ have been taken for Hank Beyer,'
! added, Gas | told you, by every one
but you. Hank stole horse and then
slipped away, and the mob made me a
prisoner. They would have hanged mo
if hadn't escaped last night, but they
are hunting through the swamp for me. u
"War dat yo' gun dat heerd 90 off
awhile ago."
1T was my pistol. l shot the blood
hound that sprang at me. Tomorrow
there will be 20 men hunting through
this swamp for me with lots of dogs
Pete, were you over slave?"
"Reckoa l war;" he chucklod.
'Runned away befo' de- wah and hid
in dis very swamp, and | helped Oders
to hide. | staid heah for more dan ii
yeah, and den wouldm' t hab come out if
| hadn't wanted to.
"YOu are the man am looking for
Will you give mo hiding place till |
am able to get out of this internal neigh
borhood?"
expected an instant compliance with