Sally

Beth took Patrick’s hand. “We’ll go back to the last place you had it,” she said. Beth led him toward the stove. She said, “Show me where you put the bag.”

Patrick tapped a spot with his shoe.

“Are you sure?” Beth asked.

“Yes,” Patrick said. “Maybe Mr. Nottingham picked it up.”

“We can ask,” Beth said. “He’s done talking now.” They went to him.

The conductor said, “All personal items are stored in the baggage car. It’s toward the front of the train. It’s still unlocked. You’ll have to go through the smoking car first.” He bowed to Beth, nodded to Patrick, and left.

The cousins crossed over a connection platform. Patrick pushed open the door of the next passenger car. A cloud of smoke billowed out. He fanned away some of the smoke with his hand. Then he stepped inside.

The seats were full in this car too. As many as a dozen men stood, holding on to railings or bench backs. The entire car smelled of cigar smoke.

Patrick saw several men he thought were reporters. They were sitting and scribbling in notebooks.

The cousins passed through the car. They crossed over the platform connecting the smoking car to the baggage car.

Patrick looked around inside the baggage car. On one wall was a large sliding door. On the opposite was a stack of trunks, wooden crates, and carpetbags. Above it was a row of windows.

He picked up the nearest black bag.

“Wait,” Beth said, “how do you know that’s the right one?”

Patrick looked around the baggage car again. One other black bag was perched near the top of the heap.

“This one feels like the right weight,” Patrick said. “But I’d better check that one just to make sure.”

Patrick stepped on a trunk to reach the bag. He lifted it, but the bag was too heavy. He dropped it, and the luggage stack moved. A flowered carpetbag tumbled down and revealed a small hideaway. Patrick couldn’t believe what he saw.

“Sally?” he said.

Beth stepped on top of a crate so she could see the runaway.

The teen climbed out of the hideaway space. Beth thought she was much prettier in person than on the poster.

Sally was wearing a plain, long brown dress. It had a high neck and long sleeves. Her skin was a beautiful light brown. A few freckles dusted her cheeks.

“You must have met Holman Jones if you know my name,” she said in a soft voice.

Patrick stepped off the trunk. “Jones is on the train,” he said. “He’s showing the poster with your face on it to all the passengers. He’s offering money to anyone who helps find you.”

Sally seemed to shrink at the news. “Are you going to tell him where I am?” she asked.

“No!” Beth said, stepping off the box. “Don’t worry. We won’t turn you in. We’ll even help if we can.” Beth introduced herself and Patrick.

Then Beth noticed that Sally was wearing a necklace. It was identical to the one Whit had given to her. The twin. She gasped.

Beth pulled out her own necklace from underneath her dress.

Sally smiled sweetly, showing straight white teeth. She said, “Which one of you is the conductor?”

Beth didn’t know what she was talking about.

And it seemed Patrick didn’t either. “Conductor?” Patrick said. “I don’t work for the railroad.”

Sally’s forehead creased in a slight frown. “Aren’t you with the Underground Railroad?” she asked. “That necklace is a secret signal.”

Beth had more questions. But Patrick said, “We shouldn’t be talking. Someone might hear us. And I have to take this bag to Mr. Lincoln.”

A loud whistle blew, and the train began to slow.

“Mr. Lincoln gives a short speech at almost every stop,” Sally said. “When the train stops, go out the side door to the back. Mr. Lincoln will be on the rear platform, greeting people.”

“Good,” Beth said. “I don’t want to pass Mr. Jones again.”

Sally put her hand on Beth’s arm. “Whatever you do,” she said, “don’t let that slave catcher see your necklace.”