Tateh climbed up into the wagon with our parcels and Nikolai covered him completely with straw. Then he lifted me up into the open cab. “You sit on my right so that when we pass through the checkpoint you will be on the side away from the guard,” he said. 

Then away we went, pulled by his single horse down the main street of the ghetto, on our way out of town. Nikolai pulled the horse to a stop at the ghetto checkpoint. A guard with a clipboard gave a cursory glance at Nikolai’s wagon, seeing an ordinary delivery man and his boy, on a return trip with an empty wagon.