CHAPTER XXIII.
About two months after their return from the South, Mr.Percival called one evening, and said: "Do you know Mr.Brick, the police-officer?
I met him just now, and he stopped me.

'There's plenty of work for you Abolitionists now-a-days,' said he.

'There are five Southerners at the Tremont, inquiring for runaways, and cursing Garrison.

An agent arrived last night from Fitzgerald's plantation,--he that married Bell's daughter, you know.

He sent for me to give me a description of a nigger that had gone off in a mysterious way to parts unknown.