Beth sat next to Sally. Both girls pulled their cloaks around them to keep away the winter chill.
Patrick jumped in the carriage by himself and sat down. His movement rocked the vehicle. Beth heard the horses stamp their hooves. One of them whinnied.
The carriage driver snapped the harness reins.
Beth felt Sally shudder. The sound probably reminded her of the slave catcher’s whip.
“Don’t worry,” Beth said. “Jones is gone.”
The driver snapped the reins again. The horses moved away from the train.
Beth looked back at the Lincoln Special. She could see a red-haired man looking out the window. He was watching them leave in the carriage. It was the reporter Hal Ross.
Murray
The carriage started slowly at first. Soldiers in blue uniforms cleared a path so the horses could move.
The horses clomped on till the carriage moved away from the depot. The crowds were waving American flags, handkerchiefs, and hats.
After a few minutes, the driver said, “That’s the hotel over there.” He pointed to a rectangular, block-long building. An American flag on top of the building fluttered in the breeze.
“My family will be staying here,” Willie said. “The governor of New York will throw a party for us. And Mr. Lincoln will give a speech about his convictions.”
“I hope to be in Canada by then,” Sally said.
The carriage pulled up in front of the hotel. Mrs. Lincoln said, “Please take us around back to the kitchen. I need to speak to a cook named Murray.”
The driver did as he was told. The carriage soon stopped in front of a plain, thick door.
The driver said, “I’ll get Murray for you.”
“Thank you,” Mrs. Lincoln said.
The driver wasn’t gone long. He came back with a man wearing a white apron. The man was tall and thin. His skin was as dark as chocolate. He wiped his floured hands on his apron.
“What do you want?” he asked. “I’m busy preparing for President Lincoln’s party.”
“Would you like to meet Mrs. Lincoln?” asked Willie.
The man’s eyes grew big as if he’d seen a ghost. “Mrs. Lincoln!” he said.
“Driver, why don’t you go to the kitchen for a cup of coffee?” Mrs. Lincoln said. “I need to speak to this man for a few minutes.”
When the driver was gone, she turned to Murray. “I require your services,” Mrs. Lincoln said simply. “Please help Sally.”
Sally lowered her hood. “I’ve come all the way from Kentucky,” she said. She showed him the necklace with the Underground Railroad symbol.
“No runaway should be seen in daylight, ma’am,” Murray said to Mrs. Lincoln. “Pardon me, but you’ll get her caught. Please come back after dark.” His kind, brown eyes were filled with worry.
“We can’t,” Beth said. “A slave catcher was on the Lincoln Special. His friend saw us leave for the hotel. It won’t be long till the slave catcher is here. Sally has to get away now.”
Murray seemed to think it over. Finally he said, “I’ll tell you the way to Black Rock Ferry. You can meet with—”
Willie interrupted. “The ferry is being watched,” he said. “A telegram said so.”
Murray looked surprised. “That’s the next station,” he said. “There is no other.”
Murray’s words made Patrick’s heart sink. “There has to be another way,” he said.
“There is,” Willie said. He leaned close to Mrs. Lincoln. He whispered in her ear. Then Mrs. Lincoln nodded. She motioned for Tad and Willie to get out of the carriage.
The boys got out, and Murray helped Mrs. Lincoln get down.
“Would a carriage and two horses help?” the future First Lady asked.
Murray grinned. “It would,” he said. Murray pulled himself up into the driver’s seat. “I will take you to Niagara Falls myself. You can take a train to Canada from there.”
Mrs. Lincoln said, “I’ll talk to your boss and tell him I needed you. That way you won’t get fired for leaving your job.”
“Thank you both,” Sally said softly.
Mrs. Lincoln looked at Beth and Patrick. She said, “Since you’re with the Underground Railroad, I’m sure you’ll want to go with them.”
The cousins nodded in reply.
“Safe travels,” Mrs. Lincoln said. She and Tad waved goodbye.
“You’ll be the prettiest woman at tonight’s party,” Beth said to Mrs. Lincoln. “Thank you for all your help.”
Patrick said, “I hope we meet again!”
“I do too,” Willie said. “You all are loads of fun and adventure.”
Murray turned around to face the children. “I know who Sally is, but who are you two?”
“I’m Patrick,” he said. “And this is my cousin Beth.”
“We’re taking the long way around to the Niagara River,” Murray said. “It will take all night. The way has narrow country roads, hills, trees, and mud. No bridges and no ferries.”
“And no slave catchers,” Sally said.
The children sat quietly as Murray drove them all away. Patrick heard the sounds of the crowd in the distance. People were cheering. A cannon fired. Somewhere a band was playing “The Star-Spangled Banner.” Patrick strained his ears for sounds of danger.
Murray steered the carriage to a dirt road. It took them away from the city. The horses pulled the carriage up a hill. It pitched slowly from side to side. The horses’ hooves squished in the mud. The sounds of the city grew quieter with each turn of the wheels.
Beth and Sally leaned against each other. Sally closed her eyes, and her breathing slowed.
Beth nodded off too.
Patrick looked at the sky. The sun sat on the horizon like a giant yellow button. He closed his eyes, just for a moment . . .
“We’re here!”
Patrick jolted awake at the sound of Murray’s voice.
Niagara Falls
Niagara Falls sounded like a mighty rush of wind combined with a lion’s roar. The air was thick with mist. The rising sun cast a warm glow over the tree trunks and rocky ground.
Beth sat upright and pulled her green cloak tightly around her. She smiled at Patrick. He rubbed his eyes.
Murray stood next to the carriage. He patted the nose of one of the horses. “Up ahead is our newfangled bridge,” Murray said.
Beth had never seen a double-decker bridge before. It spanned the river in two layers. There was a train track above a walkway. It looked almost three football fields long. A pair of giant pillars stood on each side of the river. They held up a web of thick cables that suspended the bridge.
“Is Canada on the other side?” Sally asked.
“Yes,” said Murray. “Now, I’ve seen slaves caught here. Some were almost halfway across the bridge. They were pulled back to New York by the slave catchers. But that won’t happen to you—not if you take the train.”
“But Sally doesn’t have a ticket,” Beth said.
Murray checked his apron pocket. He pulled his hand out and showed that it was empty. “I left the kitchen in a hurry,” he said. “I don’t have any money with me.”
Beth opened the carriage door and climbed out. “Sally can walk on the bridge,” she said. “Can’t she?”
“Of course,” Murray said. “I’m sure she’ll be across in no time.”
Sally got out of the carriage next. She adjusted the hood on her blue cloak. “Thank you,” Sally said to Murray. “You’re a great Underground Railroad conductor. I’m sorry you missed the party.”
Murray winked at her. “Mr. Lincoln has strong convictions. He will set things in the country right in regard to slavery,” he said. “Come back to Buffalo and visit me on that day.”
Patrick waved from inside the carriage. “Goodbye,” Patrick said. “God be with—”
Bang! A gunshot split the air. It echoed off the cliffs surrounding them. Beth couldn’t tell where the noise had come from.
The carriage horses star
ted to stomp. One of them whinnied.
Murray grabbed the nearest horse’s harness. “Whoa, boy,” he said.
A man on horseback crested a nearby hill. He wore a large tan hat. His revolver was raised in one hand. In the other he held a whip.
“Sally is going back to her master,” the man shouted. “Don’t try to stop me, or someone is going to get hurt!”
Beth recognized the voice of Holman Jones.
So did Sally. She seemed to freeze with fear.
The slave catcher draped his whip across the saddle. Then he dug his heels into the horse’s side. The horse ran even faster.
Beth started running. She caught Sally’s hand and dragged her toward the bridge. “Run,” Beth said. “Run!”
Patrick didn’t know how to help. He stood in the carriage and watched the horse and rider. Dust and rocks flew up as the horse’s hooves pounded the earth. Jones held the gun in the air and waved it.
Murray charged toward him. He shouted, “You rotten excuse for a man!”
As the horse came close, Murray leaped at Jones.
Bang! Another shot went off.
Patrick looked at Murray to see if he’d been shot. But Murray didn’t falter. He had hold of Jones’s thigh and pulled him off the horse.
The animal bolted past Patrick. He noticed that Jones’s whip was hanging off the side of the saddle. The horse ran away into the trees.
The men wrestled and rolled in the mud. Murray got hold of the revolver. He stood and aimed the barrel at Jones. Then Murray began slowly backing away from his enemy.
Patrick noticed Murray was favoring his left leg. He must have been hurt in the scuffle.
The slave catcher lay on his side, breathing heavily. “Don’t shoot me!” he cried out.
Murray backed to the cliff’s edge. He raised his arm and hurled the weapon into the rushing river below.
In those seconds, Jones leaped to his feet and began running.
“Jones is headed toward the bridge!” Patrick shouted to Murray. “Stop him!”
But Murray wasn’t fast enough. His face grimaced in pain with each step he took.
The slave catcher sprinted on.
Patrick climbed into the driver’s seat of the carriage. He picked up the reins and snapped them. The horses didn’t move.
Please help us, God, Patrick prayed. Keep Sally safe.
“Yah!” he shouted. “Giddyap!” He snapped the reins harder. The animals remained still.
Murray’s tall form suddenly pushed him aside. “Hang on!” Murray shouted. He grabbed the reins from Patrick’s hands. Murray gave the straps a single flick; the horses moved.
“Hiyah!” Murray shouted.
The horses pulled the carriage close to the bridge entrance. But Jones was still ahead.
Patrick saw a lone figure in a blue cloak entering the walkway. The person dodged quickly between other walkers.
“Look, Murray,” Patrick shouted. “It’s Sally!”
Suddenly Jones’s form appeared on the walkway too. He was only about four people away from Sally.
Murray said, “Go, Patrick. I can’t get there in time.”
Patrick leaped off the driver’s seat. He sprinted toward the walkway.
Jones was moving too fast. Patrick wouldn’t be able to stop him.
“There’s a slave catcher!” Patrick shouted to the passersby. “Stop him!”
“Where?” a stranger asked. Patrick heard other people ask too. Patrick shouted, “He’s wearing the long coat! Wide tan hat!”
The phrase slave catcher was suddenly on everyone’s lips like wildfire.
An older man in overalls grabbed Jones by the arm. Jones yanked his arm free. The man tried a second time. But the slave catcher twisted away again.
Patrick felt fear grip him. He could not believe what he was seeing.
Jones had Sally—and she wasn’t yet halfway across the bridge. She was still on the New York side.
Jones grabbed both of her shoulders and spun her around. Sally’s head was bent low. The hood of the cloak veiled her face.
“I’ve got you now, Sally Culver!” he shouted. His voice was full of victory.
Sally tilted her head backward so the hood fell off.
Patrick saw a familiar face. He heard a familiar laugh.
Patrick shouted, “Beth!”
Just then a train whistle blew. A rush of steam made a swooshing sound.
Patrick looked up. He saw the train track suspended by thick cables and beams. And a steam engine pulling six passenger cars chugged toward Canada.
A Surprise
Beth took her eyes off of Holman Jones’s face and glanced upward.
Beth felt joy bolster her courage. She offered a silent prayer thanking God for Sally’s safety.
“What have you done?” Jones asked. His grip on Beth’s shoulders tightened.
Beth winced but didn’t cower. “Sally is on that train to freedom,” she said. “Let me go.”
“I’ll take you to South Carolina and sell you,” Jones said. “I’m not leaving without a slave to sell.”
Beth reached out and grabbed the star-shaped badge. She pulled and tore it off the coat. Beth took a deep breath and shouted, “Help! Kidnapper!”
Patrick jumped on Jones’s back and tried to cover his eyes. But the man was too strong. He dragged Beth toward the walkway railing. Jones slammed Patrick against it.
Beth heard Patrick’s groan and saw her cousin let go.
“Kidnapper!” Patrick shouted. “He’s trying to kidnap a free girl!”
This time the people on the walkway became bolder. They quickly surrounded Jones and Beth.
One short, stocky man pushed forward and challenged Jones. He clenched a fist and raised it to Jones’s face. He said, “Lincoln gave a speech last night. He told us to stand up for our convictions.”
“Then stand up for me, please!” Beth cried.
Murmurs went through the crowd. Beth heard “Yes” and “He’s right” and “We’ve got to help her.” People pulled out little American flags and began to wave them.
“We want a bright future,” a woman said. “New York doesn’t want slavery or kidnappers.”
“Here, here,” another person cried.
The stocky man wrestled Jones’s left arm. Beth felt Jones’s grip loosen. She pulled away. Then two more men strong-armed Jones. They began leading him off the bridge.
Jones protested with curses. He shouted, “I have a legal right to capture slaves!” But the men didn’t let him go.
Beth watched as they dragged him off the bridge.
Patrick quickly hugged Beth. “You were brave to swap places with Sally,” he said.
“You were brave to try and stop Jones,” she said.
Murray slowly limped toward them. Beth hugged the Underground Railroad conductor. She put the Runaway Slave Patrol star badge in his hand. “Throw it into the river,” Beth said. “Even though it’s legal to capture slaves now, it’s wrong.”
Murray looked at the badge.
Beth thought she saw a tear slide down his cheek.
Murray dropped the badge over the railing. He brushed his hands together as if to show the job was finished.
“Do you two need a ride back to Buffalo?” Murray asked.
Beth saw the glow of the Imagination Station ahead of them. She heard its familiar hum.
“I think we’ll stay here for now,” she said. “Thank you.”
Patrick shook hands with Murray. “Knocking Jones off the horse was awesome,” he said.
“Today our convictions called on us to be courageous,” Murray said. “Jones didn’t have that kind of power. He was only seeking money. Today freedom won.”
Murray said goodbye and limped toward the carriage.
Patrick scratched his head. He seemed to be confused. “Before we get in the Imagination Station,” he said, “tell me how you got a train ticket for Sally.”
Beth smiled. “Mrs. Lincoln is a lot like Mr. Whittaker
,” she said. “I put on Sally’s blue cape. By habit I checked the pockets.”
“She left Sally money?” Patrick said.
Beth nodded. “And she also put in a letter of introduction,” Beth said. “Sally will need it to find a job.”
Patrick whistled. “A letter from the First Lady of the United States!” he said.
“Ahem,” a voice said from behind the cousins. “The precise title would be future First Lady. Mr. Lincoln has yet to be inaugurated.”
Beth turned toward the voice. Her mouth fell open in wonder. “Eugene?” she said. “You look like a teenager! You should be at least thirty years old.”
Beth guessed he had arrived in the Imagination Station.
Eugene was an adult friend of the cousins from Odyssey. He had been with them on their last three adventures.
Patrick said, “What happened?”
“The appropriate question is ‘What didn’t happen?’” Eugene said. “I calculated that I would be my proper age in this adventure. But it appears I was mistaken.”
“What are you going to do?” Patrick asked.
“Nothing at the moment,” Eugene said. “There’s something much more important at stake.” He paused and took a long breath. “There’s a plot afoot to murder Mr. Lincoln. And we have to stop it!”
To find out more about the next book, Terror in the Tunnel, visit TheImaginationStation.com.
Secret Word Puzzle
Beth, Patrick, and Sally traveled north on the Lincoln Special. Just as Sally had to be kept hidden, a secret word is hidden in the following puzzle grid.
Find these words from the story in the puzzle and cross them out:
Niagara
Falls
Beth
Patrick
Sally
Buffalo
Train
Lincoln
Special
Mary
Ticket
Hat
Free
Find the seven letters that are not crossed out. Write them in order in the empty boxes. Then you’ll know the secret word.
Freedom at the Falls Page 5