Freedom Stone by Jeffrey Kluger Page B

’em easy enough.”
    â€œDangerous business, sneakin’ around like that,” Lillie said.
    â€œSo’s sending a letter I didn’t even write,” Henry answered.
    He smiled and shrugged, and Lillie had to smile back. Henry was a smart man, and it was a fair deal he was offering, even if it was risky for both of them. She stood up and extended her hand for a shake the way she often saw adults do. Henry looked surprised and shook her hand with a laugh.
    â€œI’ll be back,” Lillie said with a serious expression that made her feel grown-up. “When I am, I’ll have word from your family and a letter for you to mail.”
    She sealed the bargain with a nod, then spun around and lit out for the center of town. She’d be home at Greenfog well before dark, and she’d have work to do once she got there.

Chapter Eleven
    PSST! LITTLE CAL!”
    The voice jumped out from seemingly nowhere, and Cal himself jumped in response. The stables were a dark and quiet place after the sun went down, particularly on a night like tonight, when the moon was just a shaving of its full self, shedding little light even when there were no clouds in the sky to get in its way. Cal had been here many times after sundown and ought to have been accustomed to the complete stillness of the place. But all those times he was here with permission, having been sent by the overseer to shoo a raccoon that was spooking the horses or chase out a tomcat that was stalking a she cat. The business he was here on tonight was a whole different matter.
    â€œPsst! Little Cal!” came the voice again.
    Cal leapt once more, though less than before, and this time he frowned a little too. It was Cupit who was calling his name, but calling it in a way only he would. Cupit had been addressing him as Little Cal since long ago when they were both small, and back then that was a fair enough thing to call him. Cal was the younger of the pair by close to three years, and he was indeed a good deal smaller—short and feather light while Cupit was broad and stocky. In the last year, however, Cal had begun to grow fast, even if he still didn’t have much bulk on his bones. Cupit nonetheless continued to call him Little Cal, sometimes seeming to punch the first word harder than he used to, as if reminding Cal that no matter how big he grew, he’d still be the younger of the two.
    â€œOver here!” Cal now answered in a loud whisper that he hoped could be heard anywhere inside the stable but nowhere outside it. Swaddled in shadow the way he was, he couldn’t tell exactly where he was standing, but from the powerful smell of leather and riggings, he reckoned he was close to the harness room, which was where he was supposed to be.
    â€œDon’t move, boy,” Cupit said. “I’m comin’ your way.”
    Cal reached out his hand, felt a rough-hewn post and leaned against it. His eyes were starting to accustom themselves to the darkness and from around one row of stalls he saw the shadow of Cupit approaching. The older boy moved through the darkness with far greater speed and ease than Cal had earlier—not a surprise, since Cupit had been working as a stable boy for years and was well familiar with the lay of the place. It was Cupit who’d recommended meeting here tonight, knowing from experience that it was one of the spots the slave drivers and overseer patrolled least after dark. Cupit trotted up to Cal and spoke in a whisper.
    â€œDid anyone see you come?” he asked.
    â€œNo,” Cal answered. “Slipped out of the cabin after the others was asleep.” Cal had a few ways of referring to George and Nelly. “The others” was one of them. “The growns” was another. He never described them as his parents.
    â€œDid you cut through the field like I told you to?” Cupit said.
    â€œYes. Kept low, kept quiet. Didn’t run into nobody. But I didn’t see