But how? If he
could quiet the town before the day brightened, he had a plan, but to
accomplish this seemed wellnigh impossible.
He handcuffed the prisoner and locked him into a cell, then advised his
escort to go and get food, as before the day was done--indeed, just as soon
as Mr. Morris should reach the town--he would probably need them to help
him defend the jail.
They nodded among themselves, and winked, and laughed a little, and one
said, "Right good play-actin'"; and watching, the sheriff knew that he
could depend on only one man, his own brother, to help him. But he sent him
off along with the others, and was glad to see that the crowd of
townspeople went with his guard, listening eagerly to the details of the
suspected tragedy and the subsequent hunt. This was his only chance, and he
went at once to the negro's cell.
"Now, Abram," he said, "if you don't want to be a dead man in an hour's
time, you'd better do exactly what I tell you."
"Yes, suh, please Gawd."
"Put on this old hat," handing him one, "and pull it down over your eyes,
and follow me. When we get outside, you walk along with me like any
ordinary nigger going to his work; and remember, if you stir hand or foot
more than a walk, you are a dead man.
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