The Fiddler's Secret by Lois Walfrid Johnson Page A

If I couldn’t pay up, I wouldn’t get my watch back.”
    â€œI know what you mean,” Jordan said. “A thief sells somethingfor less than it’s worth. But he makes enough money to keep on stealin’.”
    Caleb grinned. “You got it!”
    As they entered the shop, a bell on the door jangled. The pawnshop was a large, dimly lit room with two closed doors along one side. On the opposite side was a rack of coats. Nearby, a glass case held watches and jewelry. The back half of the room was closed off to customers by a wall that looked like a metal cage.
    When a short, thin man came out from behind the cage, Libby stared at him. With his hair slicked down and his collar high, the man seemed to have no neck.
    Trying to think why he seemed familiar, Libby stepped back while Caleb asked questions. Like Libby, Franz looked around, and Jordan stared through the cage-like wall.
    â€œA man trying to sell a fiddle stopped by just a few minutes ago,” the pawnbroker said in answer to Caleb’s questions. “He didn’t think I offered him enough money, so he left.”
    â€œWhat did the man look like?” Libby asked quickly.
    â€œTall. Blue eyes. Blond hair like his.” The man tipped his head toward Caleb.
    Glancing beyond him, the pawnbroker caught sight of Jordan. Suddenly Jordan stepped back.
Why
? Libby wondered.
Did he recognize the man?
    In that instant Jordan and the man stared at one another. And Libby knew who the pawnbroker was.
    The man on the
Christina’s
main deck. The man who threatened Jordan! The man who knows Jordan is Micah Parker’s son!

CHAPTER 9
Mr. Trouble

    W ithin three seconds Jordan was out the door. As Caleb, Franz, and Libby started out for the levee, she took one quick look around to be sure no one else could hear. Then the anger in her heart broke through. “When he was on the
Christina
, the pawnbroker told Jordan that he knows Riggs. But we don’t know where Riggs is.”
    Of one thing Libby felt sure. “And now that pawnbroker said the man who brought the violin to him is tall. Blue eyes. Blond hair like Caleb’s. But can we trust that description?”
    More upset by the moment, Libby spit out her words. “That man—that pawnbroker—is evil all the way through. I’m sure he would do
anything
someone asks him! Even if it’s really wrong!”
    â€œYou might be right, Libby,” Caleb said. “He sure doesn’t look like someone I’d want to meet in a dark alley.”
    A few steps farther on, Franz stopped in his tracks. “Why did Jordan run away from the pawnshop?” he asked.
    As if wondering how much to tell, Caleb seemed to think about it. Finally he said, “We don’t trust the pawnbroker.”
    â€œBecause Jordan is a fugitive?” the fiddler asked.
    Caleb was in a spot now. Libby knew Caleb wouldn’t lie,but what could he say? What could he do about the fugitive slave laws? Even on free soil such as Minnesota Territory, slave catchers had the legal right to gather a group of men, arrest a runaway, and bring him back to his owner.
    The fiddler studied Caleb’s face. “You are afraid to tell me? Don’t you think I know that Jordan is a runaway slave?”
    Still Caleb didn’t answer. A moment later they passed an opening between buildings. As if he had been waiting for them to come by, Jordan stepped out.
    Franz looked from Caleb to Libby to Jordan. “We don’t have your kind of slaves in my country,” the fiddler said. “But we have another kind of person held in bondage. I will protect you, Jordan, the way you protected me on the
Christina
.”
    Your country, Franz
, Libby wondered.
Where is it?
    Before she could ask, Jordan drew a deep breath of relief and offered his thanks.
    Caleb said more. “Is there any other way we can help you?”
    As though a mask had slipped down over the fiddler’s face, he shook