“Let’s get out of here!”
For several days Hugh Auld fussed and fumed. He went to call on Mr. Gardiner. The big shipbuilder received the younger man coolly.
“You’re loosing your head, Auld,” he observed shrewdly, “and you’re following a line that may cause you to lose your shirt. Do you think I’m going to upset my shipyard because one fresh nigger got his head cracked? I’ve got contracts to fill.”
“But—” Mr. Auld’s confidence was oozing out.
“Of course,” continued Mr. Gardiner, still cold, “I’ll compensate you for any expense you’ve had. Did you have to get a doctor to patch him up?” He reached for his wallet.
Outside, with the August sun blistering the boardwalks, Hugh Auld shivered.
Before the year had passed it was decided that Frederick would be more valuable to his master as a journeyman caulker than working in his small shipyard. He was therefore allowed to seek paying employment. He was in the enviable position of being able to pick his job and demand wages. He was known as “Hugh Auld’s boy” and was reputed remarkably bright and dependable. He made his own contracts and collected his earnings, bringing in six and seven dollars a week during the busy season. At the end of some weeks he turned over nine dollars to his master.
Frederick congratulated himself. His lot was improving. Now he could increase his little stock of education. On the Eastern Shore he had been the teacher. As soon as he had got work in Baltimore, he began looking up colored people who could teach him. So it happened that he heard about the East Baltimore Mental Improvement Society and met a free colored girl named Anna Murray.
The Oblate Sisters of Providence had been attracted by dark-eyed, slender Anna Murray. Madame Montell herself had brought the girl to the side door of St. Mary’s Seminary. She told the sisters she was of free parentage and employed in her household. Madame wished the girl carefully instructed.