“Yes, _suh_. Ah got a papah right hyear wid da ’Merican eagle right on hit. Dat little ole bird carries me round da world!” From somewhere about himself he drew out a paper and unfolded it carefully. The conductor immediately recognized it as a sailor’s protection. He looked at the spread American eagle at its head, nodded and went on down the aisle. Frederick’s hand was trembling as he folded the paper. It called for a man much darker than himself. Close examination would have brought about not only his arrest, but the arrest and severe punishment of the sailor who had lent it to him. The danger was not over. After Maryland they passed through Delaware, another slave state, where slave-catchers would be awaiting their prey. It was at the borders that they were most vigilant. They reached Havre de Grace, where the Susquehanna River had to be crossed by ferry. Frederick was making his way to the rail so that he could stand with his back to the other passengers, when he literally bumped into Henry! Henry saw him first. In a second the big fellow pushed him violently to one side; and so Mr. William Freeland did not catch a glimpse of the young sailor. A sailor who no longer swaggered but whose legs hardly managed to bear him up as he clung to the rail. On shore Henry, watching the ferry pull away from the dock, was also trembling. “What’s the matter with you, Henry?” asked Mr. Freeland. The fellow looked as if he was going to be sick. “Nothin’, suh! Nothin’ at all!” Henry answered quickly. On the other side of the river Frederick ran into a new danger. A German blacksmith for whom he had worked only a few days before looked him full in the face. Two trains had stopped on tracks next to each other--one going south, the other going north. The blacksmith was returning to Baltimore. The windows were open and Frederick, sitting close to his window, was bareheaded. The German opened his mouth. Then his face froze like Frederick’s. He flicked ashes from his big cigar and turned away from the window. Frederick sank back into his seat, closed his eyes and pulled his hat over his face as if he were asleep. The last danger point, and the one he dreaded most, was Wilmington. Here he had to leave the train and take the steamboat for Philadelphia. It was an hour of torture, but no one stopped him; and finally he was out on the broad and beautiful Delaware on his way to the Quaker City. He had eaten nothing and his head felt very light as he stood on the deck. He knew that never would he see anything so beautiful as that river. Yet he dared not relax one moment of watchfulness.