At last the "Red Lion" and her tow were safely moored at New Orleans. The Captain found a letter waiting from Mrs. Boyton requesting that Paul be sent back by the first mail packet. While waiting her departure, the Captain took Paul out to see the great city. Among many places of interest they visited that day, the slave mart at the foot of the fine statue erected in honor of Henry Clay, lived long in Paul's memory. Numbers of slaves were to be sold. The Captain and Paul pushed their way well to the front, so that they stood near the auctioneer. With feelings hard to describe, Paul saw slaves disposed of, singly and in parties. Fathers, mothers, sons and daughters were bid for and sold, and the critical purchasers examined them as if they were prize cattle. While the sale proceeded, Paul spelled out the inscription on the monument which said "that if he (Henry Clay,) could be instrumental in eradicating this deepest stain, slavery, from our country, he would be prouder than if he enjoyed the triumphs of a great conqueror." Even to his childish mind this seemed sadly inconsistent with the surroundings. The auction concluded with the sale of three boys, who seemed to be brothers, or at least close friends for they wept bitterly when parted. As they moved away, Paul's eyes were full of tears at the agony of the unhappy creatures, and turning to the Captain he said:
"Do you think this is right?"
"No," responded the Captain, "I'm darned if I do. It is an outrage and a shame that human beings should be sold like cattle, but—Great Scott! Did you notice what big prices they brought?" then added reflectively; "I'm blessed if it wouldn't pay me better to run a cargo of them down from Pittsburgh, than a tow of coal barges!"
Late that evening the Captain and Paul returned. As they approached, they saw an excited crowd, pushing their way through near the boat. They met the mate on the gang-plank keeping the people back.
"What's the matter?" demanded the Captain.
The mate explained that there had been a fight on the levee, and that big Tom had been stabbed, he feared fatally. Paul rushed into the cabin where his friend lay helpless and gasping.
"Tom, Tom!" he wailed.
"Ah! Paul, my boy," faintly responded Tom, "I fear I'm about to slip my cable. I want you lo help me say a few prayers. Just ask the good Lord not to be hard on me. I've been rough and careless all my life, but I never meant to be really bad. You talk for me."
The doctor came in and pushed the weeping Paul aside. One half hour later Tom had quietly floated out to eternity.
No one knew his full name or where his people were, so next day they buried him, the entire crew attending the funeral, and fervent were the prayers poured out then and often afterwards by little Paul for the friend so much beloved and so deeply mourned.