The Swindler's Treasure (12 page)

“There were a hundred things I wanted to ask,” Caleb said. “But I knew if someone found the boy talking to me, he'd be whipped. So I crept away. The reward poster was about Micah Parker, all right. There's an even bigger reward for him than for you,” Caleb told Jordan.

Again Jordan grinned, as though enjoying the story of his daddy's escape. “Us Parkers have value, all right. There ain't nobody who knows horses the way my daddy does.”

“When I started back to the
Christina
, I kept looking around,” Caleb went on. “Several times I hid along the way to see if someone would pass me. Once I saw a man jump out of sight, so I used every trick I know to lose someone.”

Caleb looked tired, and now Libby knew why the day had grown so long.

“I was sure I had shaken the person following me,” Caleb went on. “So I hurried on board the
Christina
. But when I slipped down behind some freight, I looked back. Just then I saw that rough-looking man who was in the courthouse.”

“He followed you all that way?” Captain Norstad was concerned. “To where Jordan's father lived and back?”

“Maybe,” Caleb answered. “Maybe not. The man he was talking to could have recognized me. If he knew what boat I was from, we're in trouble.”

Captain Norstad agreed. “Since you went there about the time Jordan's father escaped, they might think you had something to do with it.”

Standing up, Captain Norstad left to give orders. Already the
Christina
had her steam up so she could leave on a moment's notice.

Going out on the hurricane deck, Libby lay down on her stomach and peered through the railing. Within a few minutes, deckhands took in the lines, and the
Christina
blew her departing whistle. Watching the waterfront, Libby tried to spot anyone who might be watching. If someone was there, he was well hidden.

Soon Caleb, Jordan, and Peter joined Libby on the deck. As the
Christina
steamed downstream, the Illinois River flowed into the Mississippi, creating an even wider expanse of water. Whenever Libby saw one of the many islands dotting the river, she wondered,
Is Jordan's father hiding there? Or did he make it all the way across?

Even if Micah Parker stopped at the islands, the current in the river was strong. No doubt about it, if Jordan's father crossed around here, he had to be a very good swimmer.

Or desperate
. As if a cold chill had crept into the hot July wind, Libby shivered.

“As soon as we get to Alton, I'll start asking questions,” Caleb promised Jordan. “We'll find out if your father went through there. And we'll check that address Serena found. Maybe we'll find the swindler too.”

“But how are we going to find my daddy?” Jordan asked.

“If we take an Underground Railroad route, we might find someone who has seen him.”

When Captain Norstad returned, he knelt down on the deck behind them and spoke in a low voice. “Caleb, you're heading into the most dangerous situation you've had yet. More important than any money is the life of Micah Parker. If he was able to cross the river, he'll find the Underground Railroad. As dangerous as that is, there's something worse.”

Captain Norstad waited until each of them turned to face him. “If you ask questions about Jordan's father and the wrong person hears, you'll put Micah's life in danger. And Jordan might be taken back into slavery.”

The captain looked from one to the other. “Don't forget. At Alton you'll be only twenty-three river miles away from where Jordan escaped.”

Instead of north-to-south, this part of the Mississippi flowed from west to east. Tall limestone bluffs rose sharply upward on the Illinois side of the river. As the
Christina
drew close to the city of Alton, Libby gazed at the rugged hillside, the gray stone walls of the prison, and the warehouses hugging the shore. Now, with a deeper understanding of what they meant, she felt drawn to the church steeples rising above the other buildings.

Soon the
Christina
nosed alongside the large flat rock that formed a natural wharf. There was no freight waiting for Pa.

As usual, he did not complain, but Libby saw the expression on his face. Another steamboat had no doubt arrived just before them, taking all the freight and passengers headed for St. Louis. It cost money to run with a half-empty boat, and that was happening to Pa on this trip.

August fifteenth
, Libby thought, no longer able to push away her worry.
Today is Thursday, July thirtieth. The deadline for Pa's loan is only sixteen days away. If only we could find the money stolen from Pa and from Jordan
.

“I don't want to leave you here,” Pa said when he told Libby he had to keep going to St. Louis to pick up freight and passengers. “But I don't have any choice. I'll come back as soon as I can.”

“We'll find an Underground Railroad conductor quickly enough,” Caleb told him.

Pa grinned. “I'm sure you will. If you have to leave town, leave word for me at the
real
depot.” The building where people waited for the St. Louis, Alton and Chicago trains was about five or six blocks from the river.

Then Pa grew serious. “Libby, you be responsible for Peter, okay?”

When she nodded, Pa went on. “All of you need to promise me one thing. If you find the swindler, get help from a grownup—a policeman or sheriff. Someone like that.”

Like Caleb, Jordan, and Peter, Libby carried a few extra clothes in a cloth bag on her back. When the others started to leave, Libby stayed behind to give her own goodbye to Pa.

“You know how you talked about Peter needing sunlight?” she asked him. “There's something dark in his life. Something I don't understand.”

“Maybe that's what I was trying to say about wanting him to grow up in the sunlight,” Pa said. “When we know Peter better, we might discover all kinds of secrets—things that are much harder than being deaf.”

As Libby stepped down on the wharf, she felt empty in the pit of her stomach. Whenever Pa was around, life seemed safe and filled with love, no matter what happened. Now Libby hated to see him leave.

Turning, she waved to her father, then followed the boys to the riverbank. As always when Caleb slipped into his Underground Railroad role, he strolled along, looking as if nothing important was happening. But Libby knew better. Only four months before, Jordan had escaped to this very city to make his way onto the
Christina
.

Pausing here, then there, Caleb kept walking. When he and Jordan stopped at the great piles of wood used for fuel on steamboats, Jordan suddenly disappeared.
Now how did he do that?
Libby wondered.

For a moment she stopped next to Caleb. “Peter and I are going to the depot,” she said, knowing that Caleb could ask more questions without her.

When Libby and Peter headed for the Alton railroad depot, they had their first taste of climbing the steep hills. Once, Libby stopped to catch her breath. Before long she felt the tug of muscles at the back of her legs. By the time she and Peter reached the depot, those muscles ached.

The depot was built of huge limestone blocks three feet thick. As in most stations of that time, one waiting room was set aside for men, another for women and children. But Peter found his way into a smaller room.

A man sat at a desk, using a telegraph. As his finger jiggled a lever, Libby heard short and long clicks and knew she was hearing Morse code, a dot-dash way of communicating. Though Peter could not hear the clicks, his gaze was glued to the telegraph operator and what he was doing.

“Telegraph,” Libby wrote on the boy's slate. She herself had seen a telegraph only a few times before.

“I know,” Peter said.

More than once Libby had felt surprised by all that Peter knew. Wherever he went, Peter watched every move that people made.

When Libby wanted to leave, Peter wanted to stay. The third time she tugged on his arm, he said, “Samuel Morse has a deaf wife.”

Libby stared at him. “You're sure?” Then she remembered to shrug her shoulders and raise her eyebrows as if in a question.

Taking one of Libby's hands, Peter held it palm up. Using two fingers, he began tapping into her palm.

“That's how they talked?” Libby asked. “That's how he got the idea for the Morse code?” Then she remembered to write.

As Peter nodded, his grin stretched from ear to ear. A moment later he suddenly turned his back on the operator. Edging close to Libby, Peter stood between her and a man who had entered the room. When Libby would have spoken, Peter put a finger across his lips as though to say, “Shhh!”

Without giving Libby a chance to speak, Peter grabbed hold of her arm. Still with his back toward the man, he guided Libby through another door into a waiting room. From there he hurried Libby outside and around part of the building.

Libby felt more impatient by the minute. First Peter hadn't wanted to leave. Now with no reason at all, he dragged her away. But when she tried to complain, his grip tightened on her arm. Again he laid his finger across his lips.

Only then did Libby see what Peter was doing. While standing out of the direct view of anyone in the building, Peter looked through a window into the telegraph office. “Danger!” he whispered.

Libby's heart lurched. She wrote on Peter's slate. “The swindler?”

Leaning forward, she looked beyond Peter into the room. No doubt about it, the man fit the exact description Peter had given her in Galena. As the man talked to the telegraph operator, Libby studied the swindler.
Brown hair. Blue eyes. Broad back. About five feet, ten inches tall
.

Peter was right in yet another way. The man had money, yes. Libby knew enough about clothes to guess how much he had spent on them. But he didn't know how to wear clothes. The expensive suit jacket did not fit, and his tie had slipped out of position.

Just then the swindler put a piece of paper on the desk next to the telegraph operator.
I'd like to know what that paper says
, Libby thought as the operator began tapping. For a moment he stopped, glancing up at the swindler, as though making sure he sent the right message.

A flicker of impatience crossed the swindler's face. Reaching forward, he pointed to the paper.

Something about his look nudged Libby's memory.
He's impatient
, Libby thought. But that wasn't what she needed to remember. What was it?

Then one word flicked into her mind.
Anger. How would that man look if he were angry?
Libby studied his face. He was clean-shaven and wore a hat. What if his face was red with anger?

Libby gasped. In that moment she knew who she was seeing. The man who robbed Pa's safe! The man who stole from Jordan's church and from Pa were one and the same person.
Edward Dexter!

Libby tugged on Peter's arm, then signed Caleb's name. When Peter didn't want to leave, Libby insisted that they stay together. “Pa told me I'm supposed to take care of you,” she wrote with three exclamation marks after her words. “Pa said we need to get help from a policeman or sheriff—someone like that.”

Half running, half walking, Libby and Peter hurried back to the river for Caleb. By the time they again climbed the steep hill, Edward Dexter was gone.

“It's not your fault, Libby,” Caleb said when he saw the disappointment in her face. “No swindler is going to stay around waiting for you to catch him.”

“But I'm sure he was the man who robbed Pa. And Peter thinks he's the swindler who stole from Jordan.”

To find the man this soon was better than they had hoped for. But it also helped to be sure they were looking for one man, not two.

“Maybe he went to the address Serena found,” Libby said. “If we go there, we'll find him again.”

“Maybe.” Caleb lowered his voice. “But I need to get back to Jordan. It's too dangerous for him where he is. In another hour or so, the riverfront will be empty unless a steamboat comes in. When the time is right, we'll go through a tunnel and find someone with the Underground Railroad. Jordan needs a better hiding place than a pile of wood anyone can search. If I say ‘Run!' do what I do.”

As they returned to the waterfront, the setting sun cast long shadows across the river into town. Stopping along the side of the street, Libby took the slate from Peter and explained. But Peter didn't want to take the time needed to write a message. Instead he taught Libby and Caleb the sign for
Run away from someone!
Holding out his left hand, he swished his right hand against it with a swift upward motion.

Setting out again, Caleb led them back to the wharf. A steamboat was leaving now, and Caleb walked slowly, as though watching it turn into the current. While the shadows lengthened, he and Libby and Peter walked up and down, acting as if everything along the river was of interest to them.

In the dusk that followed the setting of the sun, Caleb nodded toward a steep rock wall at the edge of the waterfront. “Take a walk, Libby. You and Peter.”

At first she wondered why Caleb sent her and Peter on. Then, as she drew closer to the steep hillside, she saw a crease in the land with a stream running down over the rock.

Not far from where the stream found its way to the river, Libby noticed a young pine tree, and near that, a small garden. In spite of the failing light, she saw hollyhocks rising tall and lovely next to the rock hillside.

A part of Libby felt pleased that someone had taken the time to plant flowers that close to a busy wharf and the railroad tracks that ran along the river. At the same time it made Libby curious. Turning, she looked back to where Caleb leaned against a pile of wood.

Just then Libby caught a movement—Jordan standing up. Together he and Caleb crossed the tracks and soon reached Libby and Peter.

Going beyond them, Caleb hurried around the small pine tree. There he opened a door in the side of the rock wall. “Hurry,” he whispered.