"What is it?" asked Samson, warily.
"The Protection Society. They educated me right yer. I went to school with white boys. Now, where is your friend?"
"What kin you do fur her?" asked Samson.
"It's a gal, is it? Why, I can just put her in my buggy, made and provided for the purpose, and drive her to the Quaker settlement."
"Where's that?"
"Camden—only thirty miles off. I've got free passes all made out. Give yourself, brother, no more concern."
Samson looked at the handsome person long and well. The man stood the gaze modestly.
"Oh, if I had some knowledge!" spoke Samson; "I might as well be a slave if I know nothin'. I can't read. I wish I could read your heart!"
"I wish you could," said the man; "then you would trust me."
"What is your name?"