easily watched by one of the passengers, a
young man apparently nineteen or twenty years old. He whispered to
a yellow lad, who was his servant, and both attempted to land by
crossing the adjoining vessel. But the captain intercepted them,
saying, "All must remain on board till we draw up to the wharf."

With desperate leaps, they sprang past him. He tried to seize them,
calling aloud, "Stop thief! Stop thief!" Some of his sailors rushed
after them. As they ran up State Street, lads and boys, always ready
to hunt anything, joined in the pursuit. A young black man, who was
passing down the street as the crowd rushed up, saw the yellow lad
race by him, panting for breath, and heard him cry, "Help me!"

The crowd soon turned backward, having caught the fugitives. The black
man hurried after, and as they were putting them on board the vessel
he pushed his way close to the yellow lad, and again heard him say,
"Help me! I am a slave."

The black man paused only to look at the name of the vessel, and then
hastened with all speed to the house of Mr. Willard Percival. Almost
out of breath with his hurry, he said to that gentleman: "A vessel
from New Orleans, named 'The King Cotton,' has come up to Long Wharf.
They've got two slaves aboard. They was chasing 'em up State Street,
calling out, 'Stop thief!' and I heard a mulatto lad cry, 'Help me!'
I run after 'em; and just as they was going to put the mulatto lad
aboard the vessel, I pushed my way close up to him, and he said, 'Help
me! I'm a slave.' So I run fast as I could to tell you."

"Wait a moment till I write a note to Francis Jackson, which you must
carry as quick as you can," said Mr. Percival. "I will go to Mr.
Sewall for a writ of _habeas corpus_"

While this was going on, the captain had locked the fugitives in the
hold of his vessel, and hastened to the carriage, which had been
waiting for him at a short distance from the wharf.

"Good evening, Mr. Bell," said he, raising his hat as he approached
the carriage door.

"Good evening, Captain Kane," replied the gentleman inside. "You've
kept me waiting so long, I was nearly out of patience."

"I sent you word they'd escaped, sir," rejoined the captain. "They
gave us a run; but we've got 'em fast enough in the hold. One of 'em
seems to be a white man. Perhaps he's an Abolitionist, that's been
helping the nigger off. It's good enough for him to be sent back to
the South. If they get hold of him there, he'll never h