It was customary for the agent at Havre de Grace, bringing a fugitive to the river, to kindle a fire (as it was generally in the night), to give notice to a person living on the opposite side of the river.  This person well understood the signal, and would come across in his boat and receive the fugitive.

An aged colored couple, residing in Brooklyn, came over to my office, in New York City, and said that they had just heard from Wilmington, N.C., that their two sons (about twenty-five or twenty-six years of age), who were slaves, were about to be sold, for one thousand dollars each; and they hoped I should be able and willing to assist them in raising the money.

I told them that I had scruples about putting money into the hands of slave-holders, but I would give them something that might be of as much value.  I then pointed out a way by which their sons might reach the city.

In about three weeks, one of the young men came to my office.  Give me, said I, some particulars of your escape.  “I am,” said he, “a builder, and planned and erected the hotel at Wilmington, and some other houses.  I used to hire my time of my master, and was accustomed to ride about the country attending to my business.  I borrowed a pass from a man about my size and complexion.  I then went to the rail road office, and asked for a ticket for Fredericksburg.  From there I came on directly to Washington.  I had not been questioned before; but here, I was taken up and carried before a magistrate.  He examined me by the description in my pass; complexion, height, etc., then read ‘and a scar under his left knee.’  When I heard that, my heart sank within me; for I had no scar there that I knew.  ’Pull up the boy’s trowsers,’ said the justice to the constable.  He did so. and said ‘here’s a scar!’ ‘All right,’ said the justice, ’no mistake, let him go.’  Glad was I. I got a ticket for Baltimore, and there for another town, and finally reached here.”

You asked me to give an account of the sums that I have expended for the Underground Rail Road, etc.  I must be excused from doing this, as if I could now ascertain, I should not think it worth while to mention.  I must now conclude my narrative, by giving, with some additions, an account of an interesting escape from Slavery, which was written by my wife, more than fifteen years ago, for Frederic Douglass’ paper.

    [On page 177 the narrative of “The Fleeing Girl of Fifteen” is
    so fully written out, that it precludes the necessity of
    reproducing a large portion of this story.]