This dole did not have the intended effect. The slave took it as an admission of his right to the whole sum. In giving him a few cents the master was easing his conscience.
Frederick could not think what to do. At this rate he could not even buy his freedom. To escape he needed money. His free friends offered a suggestion: that he solicit the privilege of buying his time. It was not uncommon in the large cities. A slave who was considered trustworthy could, by paying his master a definite sum at the end of each week, dispose of his time as he liked.
Frederick decided to wait until his actual master, Captain Auld, came up to Baltimore to make his spring purchases. Master Hugh was only acting as the Captain’s agent, but Frederick was confident that the report concerning him given to the Captain would be a good one.
In this he was not disappointed. Captain Auld was told that his slave had learned well, had worked diligently. But when Frederick presented his request, the Captain’s face turned red.
“No!” he shouted. “And none of your monkey business!”
He studied the slave’s gloomy face. His own eyes narrowed.
“Get this through your black skull. You can’t run away! There’s no place you can go that I won’t find you and drag you back.” His voice was grim. “Next time I won’t be so easy. It’ll be the river!”
He meant he’d “sell him down the river.” Frederick turned away.
“Give ’em an inch and they want an ell,” grumbled the Captain to his brother.
Hugh Auld shook his head sympathetically. He was having his own troubles. Along with a lot of other speculators he was beginning to doubt the wisdom of his “sure” investments. He had taken out stock in both the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad and the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal. Now there were dire whispers of an impending crash. The Bank of Maryland had closed—temporarily, of course—but the weeks were passing and business was falling off.