Cândido Neves had abandoned his job as a wood-carver, as he had so many others before, both better and worse. Catching runaway slaves had a certain charm. He was not obliged to spend long hours sitting down, and all the job required was strength, a quick eye, patience, courage, and a length of rope. He would read the advertisements, copy them down, stick the piece of paper in his pocket, and set off in search of fugitives. He had a keen memory too. Once he had fixed in his mind the features and habits of a slave, it did not take long to find him, secure him, tie him up, and bring him back. Strength and agility were what counted. On more than one occasion, he would be standing on a corner, chatting, and along would come a slave, looking no different from any other slave, and yet Cândido would recognize him at once as a runaway, his name, his master, his master’s house, and the size of the reward; he would immediately interrupt the conversation and set off after the villain. He wouldn’t stop him there and then, but would wait for the right place to nab both slave and reward. Occasionally the slave would fight tooth and nail, but, generally speaking, Candinho emerged from such encounters without a scratch.

One day, though, his earnings began to dwindle. Runaway slaves no longer surrendered themselves only to Cândido Neves’s hands. There were newer, more skillful hands around. As the business grew, other unemployed men took themselves and a length of rope and went off to the newspapers to copy out the advertisements and go hunting. Even in his own neighborhood, he had more than one competitor. In short, Cândido’s debts began to grow, and, without the instant or almost instant reward he had garnered before, life became much harder. They ate poorly and on credit; they ate late. The landlord would send around for the rent.

Clara was so busy sewing for other people that she barely had time to mend her husband’s clothes. Aunt Mônica helped her niece, of course, and when Cândido arrived home in the evening, she could tell from his face that he had earned nothing. He would have supper, then go straight out again, on the trail of some fugitive or other. On a few rare occasions, a blindness brought on by necessity caused him to pick the wrong man and pounce on a loyal slave going about his master’s business. Once, he captured a free black man, and although he apologized profusely, he was soundly beaten by the man’s relatives.

“That’s all you need!” cried Aunt Mônica when she saw him and after he had told them about his mistake and its consequences. “Give it up, Candinho, find another way of earning a living, another job.”