“It’s all right; I’ve got it. Take my trunk in your wagon, and let on it’s your’n; and you turn back and fool along slow, so as to get to the house about the time you ought to; and I’ll go towards town a piece, and take a fresh start, and get there a quarter or a half an hour after you; and you needn’t let on to know me at first.”

I says:

“All right; but wait a minute. There’s one more thing⁠—a thing that nobody don’t know but me. And that is, there’s a nigger here that I’m a-trying to steal out of slavery, and his name is Jim ⁠—old Miss Watson’s Jim.”

He says:

“What! Why, Jim is⁠—”

He stopped and went to studying. I says: