“You’ve been making the old fellow a close call,” said the landlord, “but you’ll find him a hard one to handle.”
“Yes; but if I could catch the nigger, the $500 wouldn’t come bad. We have been close on his track for several days. We know he was at Young’s last night but where in the d—— he is now is the question.”
“Dropped somewhere, likely.”
“Yes, dropped. Old Alec was too much for us, and we lost the trail. From which direction did they come?”
“From towards Meadville.”
“Do you know any station that he could have touched?”
“No, unless Aughfeultwangher’s.”
“Awfultricker’s! ha! ha! Upon my life that is a bright idea. Why the old woman would make even Young think the day of judgment had come if he were to bring a nigger to her home.”
“So I would have thought once, and so I am disposed to think now, but I have sometimes thought his bland manners have overcome her Democracy and that somewhere about the premises there is a station; yet ’tis all guess work with me. I give you the information; if you, gentlemen, can make $500 out of it, you are welcome to the fee.”
After a short consultation between the constable and the stranger, a regular catcher who had undertaken to capture Jack, they ordered their horses and were off towards the Aughfeultwangher.