Securing the aid of a few neighbors and friends, rather as a matter of compliment than otherwise, Mr. Young had erected, at a convenient site, a nice country chapel, now a Methodist church in which the writer has been privileged to speak, and here the people of the neighborhood, white and black, met for worship. The Sabbath evening service in this little church had closed and the speaker, J. W. Loguen, an eloquent man, though a former fugitive from slavery, but at that time pastor of a Baptist church in Syracuse, N. Y., and largely engaged in the underground transit business, sat conversing with Mr. Young, in the home of the latter gentleman, when Uncle ’Lec, as the old coachman was familiarly called, entered and excitedly exclaimed, “Mass Young, him am come, him am come.” “Who has come, Alec?” queried the host kindly. “Why, Massa, dat runaway wot de han’ vill tell bout, an’ him am fearfu’ scar’ an’ no mistake, fo’ he say de catchers am arter him shua.” “Bring him in, Alec,” said Mr. Young, and in a moment more there was ushered into the room a tall, muscular colored man, bearing evident traces of white blood and answering fully the description of Jack Watson. His story, other than what we have already learned, was that at Warren, being suspicious of so many white men, he had gone out of the back yard of Mr. Douglass and a short distance along the canal and secreted himself until night in an old ware-house, still well remembered as bearing the inscription, “Forwarding and Commission. M. B. Taylor & Co.” In the evening he had struck out for Indian Run, of which Old Diligence had told him. He had traveled all the night, but not being able to reach his destination, had lain secreted during the day, and now hungry and fearful he appealed to Mr. Young for food and protection, both of which were readily accorded. After the cravings of appetite had been satisfied, a conference was held, and it was decided that Jack should try and make Syracuse, after which Mr. Loguen would assure both safety and employment. Owing to the well-known character of Mr. Young and his attachés, and unmistakable evidences of close pursuit that had preceded Jack’s coming, it was further determined to forward him at once to “Safe Haven.” In accordance with this decision the family carriage, an imposing piece of “rolling stock,” soon stood at the door with ’Lec consequentially seated upon the box. A moment later, Jack, Mr. Loguen, and stalwart John Young emerged from the mansion, and as they took their seats in the carriage, Mr. Young said: “Now, Alec, look well to your lines and remember the ‘Haven’ is to be made before daylight.” “Yes, Massa, dis ol’ chile keep an eye to de lines, de road, an’ anyting ’spicuous, an’ rouse up ol’ missus long afor’ de chicken’ ’gin to crow,” saying which, he gave a gentle chirrup and the carriage went rolling away to the northward. V.