Miss Watson Alternate Ending

We went tiptoeing along a path amongst the trees back towards the end of the widow’s garden, stooping down so as the branches wouldn’t scrape our heads. When we passed the kitchen I fell over a root and made a noise. We scrouched down laid still. Miss Watson’s big nigger, named Jim, was setting in the kitchen door; we could see him pretty clear, because there was light behind him. He got up and stretched his neck out about a minute, listening. Then he says: “Who dah?” He listened some more; then came tiptoeing down and stood right between us; we could of touched him, nearly. Well, likely it was minutes and minutes that there warn’t a sound, and we all there so close together. There was a place in my ankle that got to itching, but I
There they traded him with another slave trader. He went to the fields to work. He picked tobacco one leaf at a time and set it on the drying rack. Some time later, Jim ran for a gate and jumped on a boat leaving for home. He snuck into the kitchen and stole some food. He tiptoed into a cabin and hid under the bed. “Where’d that rascal go. He is my slave! Go find him!” yelled Jim’s owner.
“Sir,” squeaked a sailor. “I don’t know who you're talking about.”
“A nigger just ran on the boat! I want you to find him!”
The sailor turned to another sailor and asked, “Do you know who he is talking about? I don’t have a clue.”
“No I don’t,” replied he.
“You must get off the boat, now,” the captain demanded. “The ship is departing.”
The owner yelled, “But I want my slave!”
“Get off the boat. Your slave isn’t here.”
Hours later, Jim snuck of the boat the boat and returned to Miss Watson.
There was a grin on my face when I stopped. I wondered if Jim was having a dream or not. As soon as Tom was back we cut along the path, around the garden fence, and by and by fetched up on the steep top of the hill the other side of the house. Tom said he slipped Jim’s hat off of his head and hung it on a limb right over him, and Jim stirred a little, but he didn’t