THE ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER BY MARK TWAIN (Samuel Langhorne Clemens)

 P R E F A C E

MOST of the adventures recorded in this book really occurred; one ortwo were experiences of my own, the rest those of boys who wereschoolmates of mine. Huck Finn is drawn from life; Tom Sawyer also, butnot from an individual--he is a combination of the characteristics ofthree boys whom I knew, and therefore belongs to the composite order ofarchitecture. 

The odd superstitions touched upon were all prevalent among childrenand slaves in the West at the period of this story--that is to say, thirty or forty years ago. 

Although my book is intended mainly for the entertainment of boys andgirls, I hope it will not be shunned by men and women on that account, for part of my plan has been to try to pleasantly remind adults of whatthey once were themselves, and of how they felt and thought and talked, and what queer enterprises they sometimes engaged in. 

 THE AUTHOR. 

HARTFORD, 1876. 

 T O M S A W Y E R

CHAPTER I

"TOM!"

No answer. 

"TOM!"

No answer. 

"What's gone with that boy, I wonder? You TOM!"

No answer. 

The old lady pulled her spectacles down and looked over them about theroom; then she put them up and looked out under them. She seldom ornever looked THROUGH them for so small a thing as a boy; they were herstate pair, the pride of her heart, and were built for "style, " notservice--she could have seen through a pair of stove-lids just as well. She looked perplexed for a moment, and then said, not fiercely, butstill loud enough for the furniture to hear:

"Well, I lay if I get hold of you I'll--"

She did not finish, for by this time she was bending down and punchingunder the bed with the broom, and so she needed breath to punctuate thepunches with. She resurrected nothing but the cat. 

"I never did see the beat of that boy!"

She went to the open door and stood in it and looked out among thetomato vines and "jimpson" weeds that constituted the garden. No Tom. So she lifted up her voice at an angle calculated for distance andshouted:

"Y-o-u-u TOM!"

There was a slight noise behind her and she turned just in time toseize a small boy by the slack of his roundabout and arrest his flight. 

"There! I might 'a' thought of that closet. What you been doing inthere?"

"Nothing. "

"Nothing! Look at your hands. And look at your mouth. What IS thattruck?"

"I don't know, aunt. "

"Well, I know. It's jam--that's what it is. Forty times I've said ifyou didn't let that jam alone I'd skin you. Hand me that switch. "

The switch hovered in the air--the peril was desperate--

"My! Look behind you, aunt!"

The old lady whirled round, and snatched her skirts out of danger. Thelad fled on the instant, scrambled up the high board-fence, anddisappeared over it. 

His aunt Polly stood surprised a moment, and then broke into a gentlelaugh. 

"Hang the boy, can't I never learn anything? Ain't he played me tricksenough like that for me to be looking out for him by this time? But oldfools is the biggest fools there is. Can't learn an old dog new tricks, as the saying is. But my goodness, he never plays them alike, two days, and how is a body to know what's coming? He 'pears to know just howlong he can torment me before I get my dander up, and he knows if hecan make out to put me off for a minute or make me laugh, it's all downagain and I can't hit him a lick. I ain't doing my duty by that boy, and that's the Lord's truth, goodness knows. Spare the rod and spilethe child, as the Good Book says. I'm a laying up sin and suffering forus both, I know. He's full of the Old Scratch, but laws-a-me! he's myown dead sister's boy, poor thing, and I ain't got the heart to lashhim, somehow. Every time I let him off, my conscience does hurt me so, and every time I hit him my old heart most breaks. Well-a-well, manthat is born of woman is of few days and full of trouble, as theScripture says, and I reckon it's so. He'll play hookey this evening, *and [* Southwestern for "afternoon"] I'll just be obleeged to make himwork, to-morrow, to punish him. It's mighty hard to make him workSaturdays, when all the boys is having holiday, but he hates work morethan he hates anything else, and I've GOT to do some of my duty by him, or I'll be the ruination of the child. "

Tom did play hookey, and he had a very good time. He got back homebarely in season to help Jim, the small colored boy, saw next-day'swood and split the kindlings before supper--at least he was there intime to tell his adventures to Jim while Jim did three-fourths of thework. Tom's younger brother (or rather half-brother) Sid was alreadythrough with his part of the work (picking up chips), for he was aquiet boy, and had no adventurous, troublesome ways. 

While Tom was eating his supper, and stealing sugar as opportunityoffered, Aunt Polly asked him questions that were full of guile, andvery deep--for she wanted to trap him into damaging revealments. Likemany other simple-hearted souls, it was her pet vanity to believe shewas endowed with a talent for dark and mysterious diplomacy, and sheloved to contemplate her most transparent devices as marvels of lowcunning. Said she:

"Tom, it was middling warm in school, warn't it?"

"Yes'm. "

"Powerful warm, warn't it?"

"Yes'm. "

"Didn't you want to go in a-swimming, Tom?"

A bit of a scare shot through Tom--a touch of uncomfortable suspicion. He searched Aunt Polly's face, but it told him nothing. So he said:

"No'm--well, not very much. "

The old lady reached out her hand and felt Tom's shirt, and said:

"But you ain't too warm now, though. " And it flattered her to reflectthat she had discovered that the shirt was dry without anybody knowingthat that was what she had in her mind. But in spite of her, Tom knewwhere the wind lay, now. So he forestalled what might be the next move:

"Some of us pumped on our heads--mine's damp yet. See?"

Aunt Polly was vexed to think she had overlooked that bit ofcircumstantial evidence, and missed a trick. Then she had a newinspiration:

"Tom, you didn't have to undo your shirt collar where I sewed it, topump on your head, did you? Unbutton your jacket!"

The trouble vanished out of Tom's face. He opened his jacket. Hisshirt collar was securely sewed. 

"Bother! Well, go 'long with you. I'd made sure you'd played hookeyand been a-swimming. But I forgive ye, Tom. I reckon you're a kind of asinged cat, as the saying is--better'n you look. THIS time. "

She was half sorry her sagacity had miscarried, and half glad that Tomhad stumbled into obedient conduct for once. 

But Sidney said:

"Well, now, if I didn't think you sewed his collar with white thread, but it's black. "

"Why, I did sew it with white! Tom!"

But Tom did not wait for the rest. As he went out at the door he said:

"Siddy, I'll lick you for that. "

In a safe place Tom examined two large needles which were thrust intothe lapels of his jacket, and had thread bound about them--one needlecarried white thread and the other black. He said:

"She'd never noticed if it hadn't been for Sid. Confound it! sometimesshe sews it with white, and sometimes she sews it with black. I wish togeeminy she'd stick to one or t'other--I can't keep the run of 'em. ButI bet you I'll lam Sid for that. I'll learn him!"

He was not the Model Boy of the village. He knew the model boy verywell though--and loathed him. 

Within two minutes, or even less, he had forgotten all his troubles. Not because his troubles were one whit less heavy and bitter to himthan a man's are to a man, but because a new and powerful interest borethem down and drove them out of his mind for the time--just as men'smisfortunes are forgotten in the excitement of new enterprises. Thisnew interest was a valued novelty in whistling, which he had justacquired from a negro, and he was suffering to practise it undisturbed. It consisted in a peculiar bird-like turn, a sort of liquid warble, produced by touching the tongue to the roof of the mouth at shortintervals in the midst of the music--the reader probably remembers howto do it, if he has ever been a boy. Diligence and attention soon gavehim the knack of it, and he strode down the street with his mouth fullof harmony and his soul full of gratitude. He felt much as anastronomer feels who has discovered a new planet--no doubt, as far asstrong, deep, unalloyed pleasure is concerned, the advantage was withthe boy, not the astronomer. 

The summer evenings were long. It was not dark, yet. Presently Tomchecked his whistle. A stranger was before him--a boy a shade largerthan himself. A new-comer of any age or either sex was an impressivecuriosity in the poor little shabby village of St. Petersburg. This boywas well dressed, too--well dressed on a week-day. This was simplyastounding. His cap was a dainty thing, his close-buttoned blue clothroundabout was new and natty, and so were his pantaloons. He had shoeson--and it was only Friday. He even wore a necktie, a bright bit ofribbon. He had a citified air about him that ate into Tom's vitals. Themore Tom stared at the splendid marvel, the higher he turned up hisnose at his finery and the shabbier and shabbier his own outfit seemedto him to grow. Neither boy spoke. If one moved, the other moved--butonly sidewise, in a circle; they kept face to face and eye to eye allthe time. Finally Tom said:

"I can lick you!"

"I'd like to see you try it. "

"Well, I can do it. "

"No you can't, either. "

"Yes I can. "

"No you can't. "

"I can. "

"You can't. "

"Can!"

"Can't!"

An uncomfortable pause. Then Tom said:

"What's your name?"

"'Tisn't any of your business, maybe. "

"Well I 'low I'll MAKE it my business. "

"Well why don't you?"

"If you say much, I will. "

"Much--much--MUCH. There now. "

"Oh, you think you're mighty smart, DON'T you? I could lick you withone hand tied behind me, if I wanted to. "

"Well why don't you DO it? You SAY you can do it. "

"Well I WILL, if you fool with me. "

"Oh yes--I've seen whole families in the same fix. "

"Smarty! You think you're SOME, now, DON'T you? Oh, what a hat!"

"You can lump that hat if you don't like it. I dare you to knock itoff--and anybody that'll take a dare will suck eggs. "

"You're a liar!"

"You're another. "

"You're a fighting liar and dasn't take it up. "

"Aw--take a walk!"

"Say--if you give me much more of your sass I'll take and bounce arock off'n your head. "

"Oh, of COURSE you will. "

"Well I WILL. "

"Well why don't you DO it then? What do you keep SAYING you will for?Why don't you DO it? It's because you're afraid. "

"I AIN'T afraid. "

"You are. "

"I ain't. "

"You are. "

Another pause, and more eying and sidling around each other. Presentlythey were shoulder to shoulder. Tom said:

"Get away from here!"

"Go away yourself!"

"I won't. "

"I won't either. "

So they stood, each with a foot placed at an angle as a brace, andboth shoving with might and main, and glowering at each other withhate. But neither could get an advantage. After struggling till bothwere hot and flushed, each relaxed his strain with watchful caution, and Tom said:

"You're a coward and a pup. I'll tell my big brother on you, and hecan thrash you with his little finger, and I'll make him do it, too. "

"What do I care for your big brother? I've got a brother that's biggerthan he is--and what's more, he can throw him over that fence, too. "[Both brothers were imaginary. ]

"That's a lie. "

"YOUR saying so don't make it so. "

Tom drew a line in the dust with his big toe, and said:

"I dare you to step over that, and I'll lick you till you can't standup. Anybody that'll take a dare will steal sheep. "

The new boy stepped over promptly, and said:

"Now you said you'd do it, now let's see you do it. "

"Don't you crowd me now; you better look out. "

"Well, you SAID you'd do it--why don't you do it?"

"By jingo! for two cents I WILL do it. "

The new boy took two broad coppers out of his pocket and held them outwith derision. Tom struck them to the ground. In an instant both boyswere rolling and tumbling in the dirt, gripped together like cats; andfor the space of a minute they tugged and tore at each other's hair andclothes, punched and scratched each other's nose, and coveredthemselves with dust and glory. Presently the confusion took form, andthrough the fog of battle Tom appeared, seated astride the new boy, andpounding him with his fists. "Holler 'nuff!" said he. 

The boy only struggled to free himself. He was crying--mainly from rage. 

"Holler 'nuff!"--and the pounding went on. 

At last the stranger got out a smothered "'Nuff!" and Tom let him upand said:

"Now that'll learn you. Better look out who you're fooling with nexttime. "

The new boy went off brushing the dust from his clothes, sobbing, snuffling, and occasionally looking back and shaking his head andthreatening what he would do to Tom the "next time he caught him out. "To which Tom responded with jeers, and started off in high feather, andas soon as his back was turned the new boy snatched up a stone, threwit and hit him between the shoulders and then turned tail and ran likean antelope. Tom chased the traitor home, and thus found out where helived. He then held a position at the gate for some time, daring theenemy to come outside, but the enemy only made faces at him through thewindow and declined. At last the enemy's mother appeared, and calledTom a bad, vicious, vulgar child, and ordered him away. So he wentaway; but he said he "'lowed" to "lay" for that boy. 

He got home pretty late that night, and when he climbed cautiously inat the window, he uncovered an ambuscade, in the person of his aunt;and when she saw the state his clothes were in her resolution to turnhis Saturday holiday into captivity at hard labor became adamantine inits firmness. 

CHAPTER II

SATURDAY morning was come, and all the summer world was bright andfresh, and brimming with life. There was a song in every heart; and ifthe heart was young the music issued at the lips. There was cheer inevery face and a spring in every step. The locust-trees were in bloomand the fragrance of the blossoms filled the air. Cardiff Hill, beyondthe village and above it, was green with vegetation and it lay just farenough away to seem a Delectable Land, dreamy, reposeful, and inviting. 

Tom appeared on the sidewalk with a bucket of whitewash and along-handled brush. He surveyed the fence, and all gladness left him anda deep melancholy settled down upon his spirit. Thirty yards of boardfence nine feet high. Life to him seemed hollow, and existence but aburden. Sighing, he dipped his brush and passed it along the topmostplank; repeated the operation; did it again; compared the insignificantwhitewashed streak with the far-reaching continent of unwhitewashedfence, and sat down on a tree-box discouraged. Jim came skipping out atthe gate with a tin pail, and singing Buffalo Gals. Bringing water fromthe town pump had always been hateful work in Tom's eyes, before, butnow it did not strike him so. He remembered that there was company atthe pump. White, mulatto, and negro boys and girls were always therewaiting their turns, resting, trading playthings, quarrelling, fighting, skylarking. And he remembered that although the pump was onlya hundred and fifty yards off, Jim never got back with a bucket ofwater under an hour--and even then somebody generally had to go afterhim. Tom said:

"Say, Jim, I'll fetch the water if you'll whitewash some. "

Jim shook his head and said:

"Can't, Mars Tom. Ole missis, she tole me I got to go an' git diswater an' not stop foolin' roun' wid anybody. She say she spec' MarsTom gwine to ax me to whitewash, an' so she tole me go 'long an' 'tendto my own business--she 'lowed SHE'D 'tend to de whitewashin'. "

"Oh, never you mind what she said, Jim. That's the way she alwaystalks. Gimme the bucket--I won't be gone only a a minute. SHE won'tever know. "

"Oh, I dasn't, Mars Tom. Ole missis she'd take an' tar de head off'nme. 'Deed she would. "

"SHE! She never licks anybody--whacks 'em over the head with herthimble--and who cares for that, I'd like to know. She talks awful, buttalk don't hurt--anyways it don't if she don't cry. Jim, I'll give youa marvel. I'll give you a white alley!"

Jim began to waver. 

"White alley, Jim! And it's a bully taw. "

"My! Dat's a mighty gay marvel, I tell you! But Mars Tom I's powerful'fraid ole missis--"

"And besides, if you will I'll show you my sore toe. "

Jim was only human--this attraction was too much for him. He put downhis pail, took the white alley, and bent over the toe with absorbinginterest while the bandage was being unwound. In another moment he wasflying down the street with his pail and a tingling rear, Tom waswhitewashing with vigor, and Aunt Polly was retiring from the fieldwith a slipper in her hand and triumph in her eye. 

But Tom's energy did not last. He began to think of the fun he hadplanned for this day, and his sorrows multiplied. Soon the free boyswould come tripping along on all sorts of delicious expeditions, andthey would make a world of fun of him for having to work--the verythought of it burnt him like fire. He got out his worldly wealth andexamined it--bits of toys, marbles, and trash; enough to buy anexchange of WORK, maybe, but not half enough to buy so much as half anhour of pure freedom. So he returned his straitened means to hispocket, and gave up the idea of trying to buy the boys. At this darkand hopeless moment an inspiration burst upon him! Nothing less than agreat, magnificent inspiration. 

He took up his brush and went tranquilly to work. Ben Rogers hove insight presently--the very boy, of all boys, whose ridicule he had beendreading. Ben's gait was the hop-skip-and-jump--proof enough that hisheart was light and his anticipations high. He was eating an apple, andgiving a long, melodious whoop, at intervals, followed by a deep-tonedding-dong-dong, ding-dong-dong, for he was personating a steamboat. Ashe drew near, he slackened speed, took the middle of the street, leanedfar over to starboard and rounded to ponderously and with laboriouspomp and circumstance--for he was personating the Big Missouri, andconsidered himself to be drawing nine feet of water. He was boat andcaptain and engine-bells combined, so he had to imagine himselfstanding on his own hurricane-deck giving the orders and executing them:

"Stop her, sir! Ting-a-ling-ling!" The headway ran almost out, and hedrew up slowly toward the sidewalk. 

"Ship up to back! Ting-a-ling-ling!" His arms straightened andstiffened down his sides. 

"Set her back on the stabboard! Ting-a-ling-ling! Chow! ch-chow-wow!Chow!" His right hand, meantime, describing stately circles--for it wasrepresenting a forty-foot wheel. 

"Let her go back on the labboard! Ting-a-lingling! Chow-ch-chow-chow!"The left hand began to describe circles. 

"Stop the stabboard! Ting-a-ling-ling! Stop the labboard! Come aheadon the stabboard! Stop her! Let your outside turn over slow!Ting-a-ling-ling! Chow-ow-ow! Get out that head-line! LIVELY now!Come--out with your spring-line--what're you about there! Take a turnround that stump with the bight of it! Stand by that stage, now--let hergo! Done with the engines, sir! Ting-a-ling-ling! SH'T! S'H'T! SH'T!"(trying the gauge-cocks). 

Tom went on whitewashing--paid no attention to the steamboat. Benstared a moment and then said: "Hi-YI! YOU'RE up a stump, ain't you!"

No answer. Tom surveyed his last touch with the eye of an artist, thenhe gave his brush another gentle sweep and surveyed the result, asbefore. Ben ranged up alongside of him. Tom's mouth watered for theapple, but he stuck to his work. Ben said:

"Hello, old chap, you got to work, hey?"

Tom wheeled suddenly and said:

"Why, it's you, Ben! I warn't noticing. "

"Say--I'm going in a-swimming, I am. Don't you wish you could? But ofcourse you'd druther WORK--wouldn't you? Course you would!"

Tom contemplated the boy a bit, and said:

"What do you call work?"

"Why, ain't THAT work?"

Tom resumed his whitewashing, and answered carelessly:

"Well, maybe it is, and maybe it ain't. All I know, is, it suits TomSawyer. "

"Oh come, now, you don't mean to let on that you LIKE it?"

The brush continued to move. 

"Like it? Well, I don't see why I oughtn't to like it. Does a boy geta chance to whitewash a fence every day?"

That put the thing in a new light. Ben stopped nibbling his apple. Tomswept his brush daintily back and forth--stepped back to note theeffect--added a touch here and there--criticised the effect again--Benwatching every move and getting more and more interested, more and moreabsorbed. Presently he said:

"Say, Tom, let ME whitewash a little. "

Tom considered, was about to consent; but he altered his mind:

"No--no--I reckon it wouldn't hardly do, Ben. You see, Aunt Polly'sawful particular about this fence--right here on the street, you know--but if it was the back fence I wouldn't mind and SHE wouldn't. Yes, she's awful particular about this fence; it's got to be done verycareful; I reckon there ain't one boy in a thousand, maybe twothousand, that can do it the way it's got to be done. "

"No--is that so? Oh come, now--lemme just try. Only just a little--I'dlet YOU, if you was me, Tom. "

"Ben, I'd like to, honest injun; but Aunt Polly--well, Jim wanted todo it, but she wouldn't let him; Sid wanted to do it, and she wouldn'tlet Sid. Now don't you see how I'm fixed? If you was to tackle thisfence and anything was to happen to it--"

"Oh, shucks, I'll be just as careful. Now lemme try. Say--I'll giveyou the core of my apple. "

"Well, here--No, Ben, now don't. I'm afeard--"

"I'll give you ALL of it!"

Tom gave up the brush with reluctance in his face, but alacrity in hisheart. And while the late steamer Big Missouri worked and sweated inthe sun, the retired artist sat on a barrel in the shade close by, dangled his legs, munched his apple, and planned the slaughter of moreinnocents. There was no lack of material; boys happened along everylittle while; they came to jeer, but remained to whitewash. By the timeBen was fagged out, Tom had traded the next chance to Billy Fisher fora kite, in good repair; and when he played out, Johnny Miller bought infor a dead rat and a string to swing it with--and so on, and so on, hour after hour. And when the middle of the afternoon came, from beinga poor poverty-stricken boy in the morning, Tom was literally rollingin wealth. He had besides the things before mentioned, twelve marbles, part of a jews-harp, a piece of blue bottle-glass to look through, aspool cannon, a key that wouldn't unlock anything, a fragment of chalk, a glass stopper of a decanter, a tin soldier, a couple of tadpoles, sixfire-crackers, a kitten with only one eye, a brass doorknob, adog-collar--but no dog--the handle of a knife, four pieces oforange-peel, and a dilapidated old window sash. 

He had had a nice, good, idle time all the while--plenty of company--and the fence had three coats of whitewash on it! If he hadn't run outof whitewash he would have bankrupted every boy in the village. 

Tom said to himself that it was not such a hollow world, after all. Hehad discovered a great law of human action, without knowing it--namely, that in order to make a man or a boy covet a thing, it is onlynecessary to make the thing difficult to attain. If he had been a greatand wise philosopher, like the writer of this book, he would now havecomprehended that Work consists of whatever a body is OBLIGED to do, and that Play consists of whatever a body is not obliged to do. Andthis would help him to understand why constructing artificial flowersor performing on a tread-mill is work, while rolling ten-pins orclimbing Mont Blanc is only amusement. There are wealthy gentlemen inEngland who drive four-horse passenger-coaches twenty or thirty mileson a daily line, in the summer, because the privilege costs themconsiderable money; but if they were offered wages for the service, that would turn it into work and then they would resign. 

The boy mused awhile over the substantial change which had taken placein his worldly circumstances, and then wended toward headquarters toreport. 

CHAPTER III

TOM presented himself before Aunt Polly, who was sitting by an openwindow in a pleasant rearward apartment, which was bedroom, breakfast-room, dining-room, and library, combined. The balmy summerair, the restful quiet, the odor of the flowers, and the drowsing murmurof the bees had had their effect, and she was nodding over her knitting--for she had no company but the cat, and it was asleep in her lap. Herspectacles were propped up on her gray head for safety. She had thoughtthat of course Tom had deserted long ago, and she wondered at seeing himplace himself in her power again in this intrepid way. He said: "Mayn'tI go and play now, aunt?"

"What, a'ready? How much have you done?"

"It's all done, aunt. "

"Tom, don't lie to me--I can't bear it. "

"I ain't, aunt; it IS all done. "

Aunt Polly placed small trust in such evidence. She went out to seefor herself; and she would have been content to find twenty per cent. Of Tom's statement true. When she found the entire fence whitewashed, and not only whitewashed but elaborately coated and recoated, and evena streak added to the ground, her astonishment was almost unspeakable. She said:

"Well, I never! There's no getting round it, you can work when you'rea mind to, Tom. " And then she diluted the compliment by adding, "Butit's powerful seldom you're a mind to, I'm bound to say. Well, go 'longand play; but mind you get back some time in a week, or I'll tan you. "

She was so overcome by the splendor of his achievement that she tookhim into the closet and selected a choice apple and delivered it tohim, along with an improving lecture upon the added value and flavor atreat took to itself when it came without sin through virtuous effort. And while she closed with a happy Scriptural flourish, he "hooked" adoughnut. 

Then he skipped out, and saw Sid just starting up the outside stairwaythat led to the back rooms on the second floor. Clods were handy andthe air was full of them in a twinkling. They raged around Sid like ahail-storm; and before Aunt Polly could collect her surprised facultiesand sally to the rescue, six or seven clods had taken personal effect, and Tom was over the fence and gone. There was a gate, but as a generalthing he was too crowded for time to make use of it. His soul was atpeace, now that he had settled with Sid for calling attention to hisblack thread and getting him into trouble. 

Tom skirted the block, and came round into a muddy alley that led bythe back of his aunt's cow-stable. He presently got safely beyond thereach of capture and punishment, and hastened toward the public squareof the village, where two "military" companies of boys had met forconflict, according to previous appointment. Tom was General of one ofthese armies, Joe Harper (a bosom friend) General of the other. Thesetwo great commanders did not condescend to fight in person--that beingbetter suited to the still smaller fry--but sat together on an eminenceand conducted the field operations by orders delivered throughaides-de-camp. Tom's army won a great victory, after a long andhard-fought battle. Then the dead were counted, prisoners exchanged, the terms of the next disagreement agreed upon, and the day for thenecessary battle appointed; after which the armies fell into line andmarched away, and Tom turned homeward alone. 

As he was passing by the house where Jeff Thatcher lived, he saw a newgirl in the garden--a lovely little blue-eyed creature with yellow hairplaited into two long-tails, white summer frock and embroideredpantalettes. The fresh-crowned hero fell without firing a shot. Acertain Amy Lawrence vanished out of his heart and left not even amemory of herself behind. He had thought he loved her to distraction;he had regarded his passion as adoration; and behold it was only a poorlittle evanescent partiality. He had been months winning her; she hadconfessed hardly a week ago; he had been the happiest and the proudestboy in the world only seven short days, and here in one instant of timeshe had gone out of his heart like a casual stranger whose visit isdone. 

He worshipped this new angel with furtive eye, till he saw that shehad discovered him; then he pretended he did not know she was present, and began to "show off" in all sorts of absurd boyish ways, in order towin her admiration. He kept up this grotesque foolishness for sometime; but by-and-by, while he was in the midst of some dangerousgymnastic performances, he glanced aside and saw that the little girlwas wending her way toward the house. Tom came up to the fence andleaned on it, grieving, and hoping she would tarry yet awhile longer. She halted a moment on the steps and then moved toward the door. Tomheaved a great sigh as she put her foot on the threshold. But his facelit up, right away, for she tossed a pansy over the fence a momentbefore she disappeared. 

The boy ran around and stopped within a foot or two of the flower, andthen shaded his eyes with his hand and began to look down street as ifhe had discovered something of interest going on in that direction. Presently he picked up a straw and began trying to balance it on hisnose, with his head tilted far back; and as he moved from side to side, in his efforts, he edged nearer and nearer toward the pansy; finallyhis bare foot rested upon it, his pliant toes closed upon it, and hehopped away with the treasure and disappeared round the corner. Butonly for a minute--only while he could button the flower inside hisjacket, next his heart--or next his stomach, possibly, for he was notmuch posted in anatomy, and not hypercritical, anyway. 

He returned, now, and hung about the fence till nightfall, "showingoff, " as before; but the girl never exhibited herself again, though Tomcomforted himself a little with the hope that she had been near somewindow, meantime, and been aware of his attentions. Finally he strodehome reluctantly, with his poor head full of visions. 

All through supper his spirits were so high that his aunt wondered"what had got into the child. " He took a good scolding about cloddingSid, and did not seem to mind it in the least. He tried to steal sugarunder his aunt's very nose, and got his knuckles rapped for it. He said:

"Aunt, you don't whack Sid when he takes it. "

"Well, Sid don't torment a body the way you do. You'd be always intothat sugar if I warn't watching you. "

Presently she stepped into the kitchen, and Sid, happy in hisimmunity, reached for the sugar-bowl--a sort of glorying over Tom whichwas wellnigh unbearable. But Sid's fingers slipped and the bowl droppedand broke. Tom was in ecstasies. In such ecstasies that he evencontrolled his tongue and was silent. He said to himself that he wouldnot speak a word, even when his aunt came in, but would sit perfectlystill till she asked who did the mischief; and then he would tell, andthere would be nothing so good in the world as to see that pet model"catch it. " He was so brimful of exultation that he could hardly holdhimself when the old lady came back and stood above the wreckdischarging lightnings of wrath from over her spectacles. He said tohimself, "Now it's coming!" And the next instant he was sprawling onthe floor! The potent palm was uplifted to strike again when Tom criedout:

"Hold on, now, what 'er you belting ME for?--Sid broke it!"

Aunt Polly paused, perplexed, and Tom looked for healing pity. Butwhen she got her tongue again, she only said:

"Umf! Well, you didn't get a lick amiss, I reckon. You been into someother audacious mischief when I wasn't around, like enough. "

Then her conscience reproached her, and she yearned to say somethingkind and loving; but she judged that this would be construed into aconfession that she had been in the wrong, and discipline forbade that. So she kept silence, and went about her affairs with a troubled heart. Tom sulked in a corner and exalted his woes. He knew that in her hearthis aunt was on her knees to him, and he was morosely gratified by theconsciousness of it. He would hang out no signals, he would take noticeof none. He knew that a yearning glance fell upon him, now and then, through a film of tears, but he refused recognition of it. He picturedhimself lying sick unto death and his aunt bending over him beseechingone little forgiving word, but he would turn his face to the wall, anddie with that word unsaid. Ah, how would she feel then? And he picturedhimself brought home from the river, dead, with his curls all wet, andhis sore heart at rest. How she would throw herself upon him, and howher tears would fall like rain, and her lips pray God to give her backher boy and she would never, never abuse him any more! But he would liethere cold and white and make no sign--a poor little sufferer, whosegriefs were at an end. He so worked upon his feelings with the pathosof these dreams, that he had to keep swallowing, he was so like tochoke; and his eyes swam in a blur of water, which overflowed when hewinked, and ran down and trickled from the end of his nose. And such aluxury to him was this petting of his sorrows, that he could not bearto have any worldly cheeriness or any grating delight intrude upon it;it was too sacred for such contact; and so, presently, when his cousinMary danced in, all alive with the joy of seeing home again after anage-long visit of one week to the country, he got up and moved inclouds and darkness out at one door as she brought song and sunshine inat the other. 

He wandered far from the accustomed haunts of boys, and soughtdesolate places that were in harmony with his spirit. A log raft in theriver invited him, and he seated himself on its outer edge andcontemplated the dreary vastness of the stream, wishing, the while, that he could only be drowned, all at once and unconsciously, withoutundergoing the uncomfortable routine devised by nature. Then he thoughtof his flower. He got it out, rumpled and wilted, and it mightilyincreased his dismal felicity. He wondered if she would pity him if sheknew? Would she cry, and wish that she had a right to put her armsaround his neck and comfort him? Or would she turn coldly away like allthe hollow world? This picture brought such an agony of pleasurablesuffering that he worked it over and over again in his mind and set itup in new and varied lights, till he wore it threadbare. At last herose up sighing and departed in the darkness. 

About half-past nine or ten o'clock he came along the deserted streetto where the Adored Unknown lived; he paused a moment; no sound fellupon his listening ear; a candle was casting a dull glow upon thecurtain of a second-story window. Was the sacred presence there? Heclimbed the fence, threaded his stealthy way through the plants, tillhe stood under that window; he looked up at it long, and with emotion;then he laid him down on the ground under it, disposing himself uponhis back, with his hands clasped upon his breast and holding his poorwilted flower. And thus he would die--out in the cold world, with noshelter over his homeless head, no friendly hand to wipe thedeath-damps from his brow, no loving face to bend pityingly over himwhen the great agony came. And thus SHE would see him when she lookedout upon the glad morning, and oh! would she drop one little tear uponhis poor, lifeless form, would she heave one little sigh to see a brightyoung life so rudely blighted, so untimely cut down?

The window went up, a maid-servant's discordant voice profaned theholy calm, and a deluge of water drenched the prone martyr's remains!

The strangling hero sprang up with a relieving snort. There was a whizas of a missile in the air, mingled with the murmur of a curse, a soundas of shivering glass followed, and a small, vague form went over thefence and shot away in the gloom. 

Not long after, as Tom, all undressed for bed, was surveying hisdrenched garments by the light of a tallow dip, Sid woke up; but if hehad any dim idea of making any "references to allusions, " he thoughtbetter of it and held his peace, for there was danger in Tom's eye. 

Tom turned in without the added vexation of prayers, and Sid mademental note of the omission. 

CHAPTER IV

THE sun rose upon a tranquil world, and beamed down upon the peacefulvillage like a benediction. Breakfast over, Aunt Polly had familyworship: it began with a prayer built from the ground up of solidcourses of Scriptural quotations, welded together with a thin mortar oforiginality; and from the summit of this she delivered a grim chapterof the Mosaic Law, as from Sinai. 

Then Tom girded up his loins, so to speak, and went to work to "gethis verses. " Sid had learned his lesson days before. Tom bent all hisenergies to the memorizing of five verses, and he chose part of theSermon on the Mount, because he could find no verses that were shorter. At the end of half an hour Tom had a vague general idea of his lesson, but no more, for his mind was traversing the whole field of humanthought, and his hands were busy with distracting recreations. Marytook his book to hear him recite, and he tried to find his way throughthe fog:

"Blessed are the--a--a--"

"Poor"--

"Yes--poor; blessed are the poor--a--a--"

"In spirit--"

"In spirit; blessed are the poor in spirit, for they--they--"

"THEIRS--"

"For THEIRS. Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdomof heaven. Blessed are they that mourn, for they--they--"

"Sh--"

"For they--a--"

"S, H, A--"

"For they S, H--Oh, I don't know what it is!"

"SHALL!"

"Oh, SHALL! for they shall--for they shall--a--a--shall mourn--a--a--blessed are they that shall--they that--a--they that shall mourn, forthey shall--a--shall WHAT? Why don't you tell me, Mary?--what do youwant to be so mean for?"

"Oh, Tom, you poor thick-headed thing, I'm not teasing you. I wouldn'tdo that. You must go and learn it again. Don't you be discouraged, Tom, you'll manage it--and if you do, I'll give you something ever so nice. There, now, that's a good boy. "

"All right! What is it, Mary, tell me what it is. "

"Never you mind, Tom. You know if I say it's nice, it is nice. "

"You bet you that's so, Mary. All right, I'll tackle it again. "

And he did "tackle it again"--and under the double pressure ofcuriosity and prospective gain he did it with such spirit that heaccomplished a shining success. Mary gave him a brand-new "Barlow"knife worth twelve and a half cents; and the convulsion of delight thatswept his system shook him to his foundations. True, the knife wouldnot cut anything, but it was a "sure-enough" Barlow, and there wasinconceivable grandeur in that--though where the Western boys ever gotthe idea that such a weapon could possibly be counterfeited to itsinjury is an imposing mystery and will always remain so, perhaps. Tomcontrived to scarify the cupboard with it, and was arranging to beginon the bureau, when he was called off to dress for Sunday-school. 

Mary gave him a tin basin of water and a piece of soap, and he wentoutside the door and set the basin on a little bench there; then hedipped the soap in the water and laid it down; turned up his sleeves;poured out the water on the ground, gently, and then entered thekitchen and began to wipe his face diligently on the towel behind thedoor. But Mary removed the towel and said:

"Now ain't you ashamed, Tom. You mustn't be so bad. Water won't hurtyou. "

Tom was a trifle disconcerted. The basin was refilled, and this timehe stood over it a little while, gathering resolution; took in a bigbreath and began. When he entered the kitchen presently, with both eyesshut and groping for the towel with his hands, an honorable testimonyof suds and water was dripping from his face. But when he emerged fromthe towel, he was not yet satisfactory, for the clean territory stoppedshort at his chin and his jaws, like a mask; below and beyond this linethere was a dark expanse of unirrigated soil that spread downward infront and backward around his neck. Mary took him in hand, and when shewas done with him he was a man and a brother, without distinction ofcolor, and his saturated hair was neatly brushed, and its short curlswrought into a dainty and symmetrical general effect. [He privatelysmoothed out the curls, with labor and difficulty, and plastered hishair close down to his head; for he held curls to be effeminate, andhis own filled his life with bitterness. ] Then Mary got out a suit ofhis clothing that had been used only on Sundays during two years--theywere simply called his "other clothes"--and so by that we know thesize of his wardrobe. The girl "put him to rights" after he had dressedhimself; she buttoned his neat roundabout up to his chin, turned hisvast shirt collar down over his shoulders, brushed him off and crownedhim with his speckled straw hat. He now looked exceedingly improved anduncomfortable. He was fully as uncomfortable as he looked; for therewas a restraint about whole clothes and cleanliness that galled him. Hehoped that Mary would forget his shoes, but the hope was blighted; shecoated them thoroughly with tallow, as was the custom, and brought themout. He lost his temper and said he was always being made to doeverything he didn't want to do. But Mary said, persuasively:

"Please, Tom--that's a good boy. "

So he got into the shoes snarling. Mary was soon ready, and the threechildren set out for Sunday-school--a place that Tom hated with hiswhole heart; but Sid and Mary were fond of it. 

Sabbath-school hours were from nine to half-past ten; and then churchservice. Two of the children always remained for the sermonvoluntarily, and the other always remained too--for stronger reasons. The church's high-backed, uncushioned pews would seat about threehundred persons; the edifice was but a small, plain affair, with a sortof pine board tree-box on top of it for a steeple. At the door Tomdropped back a step and accosted a Sunday-dressed comrade:

"Say, Billy, got a yaller ticket?"

"Yes. "

"What'll you take for her?"

"What'll you give?"

"Piece of lickrish and a fish-hook. "

"Less see 'em. "

Tom exhibited. They were satisfactory, and the property changed hands. Then Tom traded a couple of white alleys for three red tickets, andsome small trifle or other for a couple of blue ones. He waylaid otherboys as they came, and went on buying tickets of various colors ten orfifteen minutes longer. He entered the church, now, with a swarm ofclean and noisy boys and girls, proceeded to his seat and started aquarrel with the first boy that came handy. The teacher, a grave, elderly man, interfered; then turned his back a moment and Tom pulled aboy's hair in the next bench, and was absorbed in his book when the boyturned around; stuck a pin in another boy, presently, in order to hearhim say "Ouch!" and got a new reprimand from his teacher. Tom's wholeclass were of a pattern--restless, noisy, and troublesome. When theycame to recite their lessons, not one of them knew his versesperfectly, but had to be prompted all along. However, they worriedthrough, and each got his reward--in small blue tickets, each with apassage of Scripture on it; each blue ticket was pay for two verses ofthe recitation. Ten blue tickets equalled a red one, and could beexchanged for it; ten red tickets equalled a yellow one; for ten yellowtickets the superintendent gave a very plainly bound Bible (worth fortycents in those easy times) to the pupil. How many of my readers wouldhave the industry and application to memorize two thousand verses, evenfor a Dore Bible? And yet Mary had acquired two Bibles in this way--itwas the patient work of two years--and a boy of German parentage hadwon four or five. He once recited three thousand verses withoutstopping; but the strain upon his mental faculties was too great, andhe was little better than an idiot from that day forth--a grievousmisfortune for the school, for on great occasions, before company, thesuperintendent (as Tom expressed it) had always made this boy come outand "spread himself. " Only the older pupils managed to keep theirtickets and stick to their tedious work long enough to get a Bible, andso the delivery of one of these prizes was a rare and noteworthycircumstance; the successful pupil was so great and conspicuous forthat day that on the spot every scholar's heart was fired with a freshambition that often lasted a couple of weeks. It is possible that Tom'smental stomach had never really hungered for one of those prizes, butunquestionably his entire being had for many a day longed for the gloryand the eclat that came with it. 

In due course the superintendent stood up in front of the pulpit, witha closed hymn-book in his hand and his forefinger inserted between itsleaves, and commanded attention. When a Sunday-school superintendentmakes his customary little speech, a hymn-book in the hand is asnecessary as is the inevitable sheet of music in the hand of a singerwho stands forward on the platform and sings a solo at a concert--though why, is a mystery: for neither the hymn-book nor the sheet ofmusic is ever referred to by the sufferer. This superintendent was aslim creature of thirty-five, with a sandy goatee and short sandy hair;he wore a stiff standing-collar whose upper edge almost reached hisears and whose sharp points curved forward abreast the corners of hismouth--a fence that compelled a straight lookout ahead, and a turningof the whole body when a side view was required; his chin was proppedon a spreading cravat which was as broad and as long as a bank-note, and had fringed ends; his boot toes were turned sharply up, in thefashion of the day, like sleigh-runners--an effect patiently andlaboriously produced by the young men by sitting with their toespressed against a wall for hours together. Mr. Walters was very earnestof mien, and very sincere and honest at heart; and he held sacredthings and places in such reverence, and so separated them from worldlymatters, that unconsciously to himself his Sunday-school voice hadacquired a peculiar intonation which was wholly absent on week-days. Hebegan after this fashion:

"Now, children, I want you all to sit up just as straight and prettyas you can and give me all your attention for a minute or two. There--that is it. That is the way good little boys and girls should do. I seeone little girl who is looking out of the window--I am afraid shethinks I am out there somewhere--perhaps up in one of the trees makinga speech to the little birds. [Applausive titter. ] I want to tell youhow good it makes me feel to see so many bright, clean little facesassembled in a place like this, learning to do right and be good. " Andso forth and so on. It is not necessary to set down the rest of theoration. It was of a pattern which does not vary, and so it is familiarto us all. 

The latter third of the speech was marred by the resumption of fightsand other recreations among certain of the bad boys, and by fidgetingsand whisperings that extended far and wide, washing even to the basesof isolated and incorruptible rocks like Sid and Mary. But now everysound ceased suddenly, with the subsidence of Mr. Walters' voice, andthe conclusion of the speech was received with a burst of silentgratitude. 

A good part of the whispering had been occasioned by an event whichwas more or less rare--the entrance of visitors: lawyer Thatcher, accompanied by a very feeble and aged man; a fine, portly, middle-agedgentleman with iron-gray hair; and a dignified lady who was doubtlessthe latter's wife. The lady was leading a child. Tom had been restlessand full of chafings and repinings; conscience-smitten, too--he couldnot meet Amy Lawrence's eye, he could not brook her loving gaze. Butwhen he saw this small new-comer his soul was all ablaze with bliss ina moment. The next moment he was "showing off" with all his might--cuffing boys, pulling hair, making faces--in a word, using every artthat seemed likely to fascinate a girl and win her applause. Hisexaltation had but one alloy--the memory of his humiliation in thisangel's garden--and that record in sand was fast washing out, underthe waves of happiness that were sweeping over it now. 

The visitors were given the highest seat of honor, and as soon as Mr. Walters' speech was finished, he introduced them to the school. Themiddle-aged man turned out to be a prodigious personage--no less a onethan the county judge--altogether the most august creation thesechildren had ever looked upon--and they wondered what kind of materialhe was made of--and they half wanted to hear him roar, and were halfafraid he might, too. He was from Constantinople, twelve miles away--sohe had travelled, and seen the world--these very eyes had looked uponthe county court-house--which was said to have a tin roof. The awewhich these reflections inspired was attested by the impressive silenceand the ranks of staring eyes. This was the great Judge Thatcher, brother of their own lawyer. Jeff Thatcher immediately went forward, tobe familiar with the great man and be envied by the school. It wouldhave been music to his soul to hear the whisperings:

"Look at him, Jim! He's a going up there. Say--look! he's a going toshake hands with him--he IS shaking hands with him! By jings, don't youwish you was Jeff?"

Mr. Walters fell to "showing off, " with all sorts of officialbustlings and activities, giving orders, delivering judgments, discharging directions here, there, everywhere that he could find atarget. The librarian "showed off"--running hither and thither with hisarms full of books and making a deal of the splutter and fuss thatinsect authority delights in. The young lady teachers "showed off"--bending sweetly over pupils that were lately being boxed, liftingpretty warning fingers at bad little boys and patting good oneslovingly. The young gentlemen teachers "showed off" with smallscoldings and other little displays of authority and fine attention todiscipline--and most of the teachers, of both sexes, found business upat the library, by the pulpit; and it was business that frequently hadto be done over again two or three times (with much seeming vexation). The little girls "showed off" in various ways, and the little boys"showed off" with such diligence that the air was thick with paper wadsand the murmur of scufflings. And above it all the great man sat andbeamed a majestic judicial smile upon all the house, and warmed himselfin the sun of his own grandeur--for he was "showing off, " too. 

There was only one thing wanting to make Mr. Walters' ecstasycomplete, and that was a chance to deliver a Bible-prize and exhibit aprodigy. Several pupils had a few yellow tickets, but none had enough--he had been around among the star pupils inquiring. He would have givenworlds, now, to have that German lad back again with a sound mind. 

And now at this moment, when hope was dead, Tom Sawyer came forwardwith nine yellow tickets, nine red tickets, and ten blue ones, anddemanded a Bible. This was a thunderbolt out of a clear sky. Walterswas not expecting an application from this source for the next tenyears. But there was no getting around it--here were the certifiedchecks, and they were good for their face. Tom was therefore elevatedto a place with the Judge and the other elect, and the great news wasannounced from headquarters. It was the most stunning surprise of thedecade, and so profound was the sensation that it lifted the new heroup to the judicial one's altitude, and the school had two marvels togaze upon in place of one. The boys were all eaten up with envy--butthose that suffered the bitterest pangs were those who perceived toolate that they themselves had contributed to this hated splendor bytrading tickets to Tom for the wealth he had amassed in sellingwhitewashing privileges. These despised themselves, as being the dupesof a wily fraud, a guileful snake in the grass. 

The prize was delivered to Tom with as much effusion as thesuperintendent could pump up under the circumstances; but it lackedsomewhat of the true gush, for the poor fellow's instinct taught himthat there was a mystery here that could not well bear the light, perhaps; it was simply preposterous that this boy had warehoused twothousand sheaves of Scriptural wisdom on his premises--a dozen wouldstrain his capacity, without a doubt. 

Amy Lawrence was proud and glad, and she tried to make Tom see it inher face--but he wouldn't look. She wondered; then she was just a graintroubled; next a dim suspicion came and went--came again; she watched;a furtive glance told her worlds--and then her heart broke, and she wasjealous, and angry, and the tears came and she hated everybody. Tommost of all (she thought). 

Tom was introduced to the Judge; but his tongue was tied, his breathwould hardly come, his heart quaked--partly because of the awfulgreatness of the man, but mainly because he was her parent. He wouldhave liked to fall down and worship him, if it were in the dark. TheJudge put his hand on Tom's head and called him a fine little man, andasked him what his name was. The boy stammered, gasped, and got it out:

"Tom. "

"Oh, no, not Tom--it is--"

"Thomas. "

"Ah, that's it. I thought there was more to it, maybe. That's verywell. But you've another one I daresay, and you'll tell it to me, won'tyou?"

"Tell the gentleman your other name, Thomas, " said Walters, "and saysir. You mustn't forget your manners. "

"Thomas Sawyer--sir. "

"That's it! That's a good boy. Fine boy. Fine, manly little fellow. Two thousand verses is a great many--very, very great many. And younever can be sorry for the trouble you took to learn them; forknowledge is worth more than anything there is in the world; it's whatmakes great men and good men; you'll be a great man and a good manyourself, some day, Thomas, and then you'll look back and say, It's allowing to the precious Sunday-school privileges of my boyhood--it's allowing to my dear teachers that taught me to learn--it's all owing tothe good superintendent, who encouraged me, and watched over me, andgave me a beautiful Bible--a splendid elegant Bible--to keep and haveit all for my own, always--it's all owing to right bringing up! That iswhat you will say, Thomas--and you wouldn't take any money for thosetwo thousand verses--no indeed you wouldn't. And now you wouldn't mindtelling me and this lady some of the things you've learned--no, I knowyou wouldn't--for we are proud of little boys that learn. Now, nodoubt you know the names of all the twelve disciples. Won't you tell usthe names of the first two that were appointed?"

Tom was tugging at a button-hole and looking sheepish. He blushed, now, and his eyes fell. Mr. Walters' heart sank within him. He said tohimself, it is not possible that the boy can answer the simplestquestion--why DID the Judge ask him? Yet he felt obliged to speak upand say:

"Answer the gentleman, Thomas--don't be afraid. "

Tom still hung fire. 

"Now I know you'll tell me, " said the lady. "The names of the firsttwo disciples were--"

"DAVID AND GOLIAH!"

Let us draw the curtain of charity over the rest of the scene. 

CHAPTER V

ABOUT half-past ten the cracked bell of the small church began toring, and presently the people began to gather for the morning sermon. The Sunday-school children distributed themselves about the house andoccupied pews with their parents, so as to be under supervision. AuntPolly came, and Tom and Sid and Mary sat with her--Tom being placednext the aisle, in order that he might be as far away from the openwindow and the seductive outside summer scenes as possible. The crowdfiled up the aisles: the aged and needy postmaster, who had seen betterdays; the mayor and his wife--for they had a mayor there, among otherunnecessaries; the justice of the peace; the widow Douglass, fair, smart, and forty, a generous, good-hearted soul and well-to-do, herhill mansion the only palace in the town, and the most hospitable andmuch the most lavish in the matter of festivities that St. Petersburgcould boast; the bent and venerable Major and Mrs. Ward; lawyerRiverson, the new notable from a distance; next the belle of thevillage, followed by a troop of lawn-clad and ribbon-decked youngheart-breakers; then all the young clerks in town in a body--for theyhad stood in the vestibule sucking their cane-heads, a circling wall ofoiled and simpering admirers, till the last girl had run their gantlet;and last of all came the Model Boy, Willie Mufferson, taking as heedfulcare of his mother as if she were cut glass. He always brought hismother to church, and was the pride of all the matrons. The boys allhated him, he was so good. And besides, he had been "thrown up to them"so much. His white handkerchief was hanging out of his pocket behind, asusual on Sundays--accidentally. Tom had no handkerchief, and he lookedupon boys who had as snobs. 

The congregation being fully assembled, now, the bell rang once more, to warn laggards and stragglers, and then a solemn hush fell upon thechurch which was only broken by the tittering and whispering of thechoir in the gallery. The choir always tittered and whispered allthrough service. There was once a church choir that was not ill-bred, but I have forgotten where it was, now. It was a great many years ago, and I can scarcely remember anything about it, but I think it was insome foreign country. 

The minister gave out the hymn, and read it through with a relish, ina peculiar style which was much admired in that part of the country. His voice began on a medium key and climbed steadily up till it reacheda certain point, where it bore with strong emphasis upon the topmostword and then plunged down as if from a spring-board:

 Shall I be car-ri-ed toe the skies, on flow'ry BEDS of ease, Whilst others fight to win the prize, and sail thro' BLOODY seas?

He was regarded as a wonderful reader. At church "sociables" he wasalways called upon to read poetry; and when he was through, the ladieswould lift up their hands and let them fall helplessly in their laps, and "wall" their eyes, and shake their heads, as much as to say, "Wordscannot express it; it is too beautiful, TOO beautiful for this mortalearth. "

After the hymn had been sung, the Rev. Mr. Sprague turned himself intoa bulletin-board, and read off "notices" of meetings and societies andthings till it seemed that the list would stretch out to the crack ofdoom--a queer custom which is still kept up in America, even in cities, away here in this age of abundant newspapers. Often, the less there isto justify a traditional custom, the harder it is to get rid of it. 

And now the minister prayed. A good, generous prayer it was, and wentinto details: it pleaded for the church, and the little children of thechurch; for the other churches of the village; for the village itself;for the county; for the State; for the State officers; for the UnitedStates; for the churches of the United States; for Congress; for thePresident; for the officers of the Government; for poor sailors, tossedby stormy seas; for the oppressed millions groaning under the heel ofEuropean monarchies and Oriental despotisms; for such as have the lightand the good tidings, and yet have not eyes to see nor ears to hearwithal; for the heathen in the far islands of the sea; and closed witha supplication that the words he was about to speak might find graceand favor, and be as seed sown in fertile ground, yielding in time agrateful harvest of good. Amen. 

There was a rustling of dresses, and the standing congregation satdown. The boy whose history this book relates did not enjoy the prayer, he only endured it--if he even did that much. He was restive allthrough it; he kept tally of the details of the prayer, unconsciously--for he was not listening, but he knew the ground of old, and theclergyman's regular route over it--and when a little trifle of newmatter was interlarded, his ear detected it and his whole natureresented it; he considered additions unfair, and scoundrelly. In themidst of the prayer a fly had lit on the back of the pew in front ofhim and tortured his spirit by calmly rubbing its hands together, embracing its head with its arms, and polishing it so vigorously thatit seemed to almost part company with the body, and the slender threadof a neck was exposed to view; scraping its wings with its hind legsand smoothing them to its body as if they had been coat-tails; goingthrough its whole toilet as tranquilly as if it knew it was perfectlysafe. As indeed it was; for as sorely as Tom's hands itched to grab forit they did not dare--he believed his soul would be instantly destroyedif he did such a thing while the prayer was going on. But with theclosing sentence his hand began to curve and steal forward; and theinstant the "Amen" was out the fly was a prisoner of war. His auntdetected the act and made him let it go. 

The minister gave out his text and droned along monotonously throughan argument that was so prosy that many a head by and by began to nod--and yet it was an argument that dealt in limitless fire and brimstoneand thinned the predestined elect down to a company so small as to behardly worth the saving. Tom counted the pages of the sermon; afterchurch he always knew how many pages there had been, but he seldom knewanything else about the discourse. However, this time he was reallyinterested for a little while. The minister made a grand and movingpicture of the assembling together of the world's hosts at themillennium when the lion and the lamb should lie down together and alittle child should lead them. But the pathos, the lesson, the moral ofthe great spectacle were lost upon the boy; he only thought of theconspicuousness of the principal character before the on-lookingnations; his face lit with the thought, and he said to himself that hewished he could be that child, if it was a tame lion. 

Now he lapsed into suffering again, as the dry argument was resumed. Presently he bethought him of a treasure he had and got it out. It wasa large black beetle with formidable jaws--a "pinchbug, " he called it. It was in a percussion-cap box. The first thing the beetle did was totake him by the finger. A natural fillip followed, the beetle wentfloundering into the aisle and lit on its back, and the hurt fingerwent into the boy's mouth. The beetle lay there working its helplesslegs, unable to turn over. Tom eyed it, and longed for it; but it wassafe out of his reach. Other people uninterested in the sermon foundrelief in the beetle, and they eyed it too. Presently a vagrant poodledog came idling along, sad at heart, lazy with the summer softness andthe quiet, weary of captivity, sighing for change. He spied the beetle;the drooping tail lifted and wagged. He surveyed the prize; walkedaround it; smelt at it from a safe distance; walked around it again;grew bolder, and took a closer smell; then lifted his lip and made agingerly snatch at it, just missing it; made another, and another;began to enjoy the diversion; subsided to his stomach with the beetlebetween his paws, and continued his experiments; grew weary at last, and then indifferent and absent-minded. His head nodded, and little bylittle his chin descended and touched the enemy, who seized it. Therewas a sharp yelp, a flirt of the poodle's head, and the beetle fell acouple of yards away, and lit on its back once more. The neighboringspectators shook with a gentle inward joy, several faces went behindfans and handkerchiefs, and Tom was entirely happy. The dog lookedfoolish, and probably felt so; but there was resentment in his heart, too, and a craving for revenge. So he went to the beetle and began awary attack on it again; jumping at it from every point of a circle, lighting with his fore-paws within an inch of the creature, making evencloser snatches at it with his teeth, and jerking his head till hisears flapped again. But he grew tired once more, after a while; triedto amuse himself with a fly but found no relief; followed an antaround, with his nose close to the floor, and quickly wearied of that;yawned, sighed, forgot the beetle entirely, and sat down on it. Thenthere was a wild yelp of agony and the poodle went sailing up theaisle; the yelps continued, and so did the dog; he crossed the house infront of the altar; he flew down the other aisle; he crossed before thedoors; he clamored up the home-stretch; his anguish grew with hisprogress, till presently he was but a woolly comet moving in its orbitwith the gleam and the speed of light. At last the frantic sufferersheered from its course, and sprang into its master's lap; he flung itout of the window, and the voice of distress quickly thinned away anddied in the distance. 

By this time the whole church was red-faced and suffocating withsuppressed laughter, and the sermon had come to a dead standstill. Thediscourse was resumed presently, but it went lame and halting, allpossibility of impressiveness being at an end; for even the gravestsentiments were constantly being received with a smothered burst ofunholy mirth, under cover of some remote pew-back, as if the poorparson had said a rarely facetious thing. It was a genuine relief tothe whole congregation when the ordeal was over and the benedictionpronounced. 

Tom Sawyer went home quite cheerful, thinking to himself that therewas some satisfaction about divine service when there was a bit ofvariety in it. He had but one marring thought; he was willing that thedog should play with his pinchbug, but he did not think it was uprightin him to carry it off. 

CHAPTER VI

MONDAY morning found Tom Sawyer miserable. Monday morning always foundhim so--because it began another week's slow suffering in school. Hegenerally began that day with wishing he had had no interveningholiday, it made the going into captivity and fetters again so muchmore odious. 

Tom lay thinking. Presently it occurred to him that he wished he wassick; then he could stay home from school. Here was a vaguepossibility. He canvassed his system. No ailment was found, and heinvestigated again. This time he thought he could detect colickysymptoms, and he began to encourage them with considerable hope. Butthey soon grew feeble, and presently died wholly away. He reflectedfurther. Suddenly he discovered something. One of his upper front teethwas loose. This was lucky; he was about to begin to groan, as a"starter, " as he called it, when it occurred to him that if he cameinto court with that argument, his aunt would pull it out, and thatwould hurt. So he thought he would hold the tooth in reserve for thepresent, and seek further. Nothing offered for some little time, andthen he remembered hearing the doctor tell about a certain thing thatlaid up a patient for two or three weeks and threatened to make himlose a finger. So the boy eagerly drew his sore toe from under thesheet and held it up for inspection. But now he did not know thenecessary symptoms. However, it seemed well worth while to chance it, so he fell to groaning with considerable spirit. 

But Sid slept on unconscious. 

Tom groaned louder, and fancied that he began to feel pain in the toe. 

No result from Sid. 

Tom was panting with his exertions by this time. He took a rest andthen swelled himself up and fetched a succession of admirable groans. 

Sid snored on. 

Tom was aggravated. He said, "Sid, Sid!" and shook him. This courseworked well, and Tom began to groan again. Sid yawned, stretched, thenbrought himself up on his elbow with a snort, and began to stare atTom. Tom went on groaning. Sid said:

"Tom! Say, Tom!" [No response. ] "Here, Tom! TOM! What is the matter, Tom?" And he shook him and looked in his face anxiously. 

Tom moaned out:

"Oh, don't, Sid. Don't joggle me. "

"Why, what's the matter, Tom? I must call auntie. "

"No--never mind. It'll be over by and by, maybe. Don't call anybody. "

"But I must! DON'T groan so, Tom, it's awful. How long you been thisway?"

"Hours. Ouch! Oh, don't stir so, Sid, you'll kill me. "

"Tom, why didn't you wake me sooner? Oh, Tom, DON'T! It makes myflesh crawl to hear you. Tom, what is the matter?"

"I forgive you everything, Sid. [Groan. ] Everything you've ever doneto me. When I'm gone--"

"Oh, Tom, you ain't dying, are you? Don't, Tom--oh, don't. Maybe--"

"I forgive everybody, Sid. [Groan. ] Tell 'em so, Sid. And Sid, yougive my window-sash and my cat with one eye to that new girl that'scome to town, and tell her--"

But Sid had snatched his clothes and gone. Tom was suffering inreality, now, so handsomely was his imagination working, and so hisgroans had gathered quite a genuine tone. 

Sid flew down-stairs and said:

"Oh, Aunt Polly, come! Tom's dying!"

"Dying!"

"Yes'm. Don't wait--come quick!"

"Rubbage! I don't believe it!"

But she fled up-stairs, nevertheless, with Sid and Mary at her heels. And her face grew white, too, and her lip trembled. When she reachedthe bedside she gasped out:

"You, Tom! Tom, what's the matter with you?"

"Oh, auntie, I'm--"

"What's the matter with you--what is the matter with you, child?"

"Oh, auntie, my sore toe's mortified!"

The old lady sank down into a chair and laughed a little, then cried alittle, then did both together. This restored her and she said:

"Tom, what a turn you did give me. Now you shut up that nonsense andclimb out of this. "

The groans ceased and the pain vanished from the toe. The boy felt alittle foolish, and he said:

"Aunt Polly, it SEEMED mortified, and it hurt so I never minded mytooth at all. "

"Your tooth, indeed! What's the matter with your tooth?"

"One of them's loose, and it aches perfectly awful. "

"There, there, now, don't begin that groaning again. Open your mouth. Well--your tooth IS loose, but you're not going to die about that. Mary, get me a silk thread, and a chunk of fire out of the kitchen. "

Tom said:

"Oh, please, auntie, don't pull it out. It don't hurt any more. I wishI may never stir if it does. Please don't, auntie. I don't want to stayhome from school. "

"Oh, you don't, don't you? So all this row was because you thoughtyou'd get to stay home from school and go a-fishing? Tom, Tom, I loveyou so, and you seem to try every way you can to break my old heartwith your outrageousness. " By this time the dental instruments wereready. The old lady made one end of the silk thread fast to Tom's toothwith a loop and tied the other to the bedpost. Then she seized thechunk of fire and suddenly thrust it almost into the boy's face. Thetooth hung dangling by the bedpost, now. 

But all trials bring their compensations. As Tom wended to schoolafter breakfast, he was the envy of every boy he met because the gap inhis upper row of teeth enabled him to expectorate in a new andadmirable way. He gathered quite a following of lads interested in theexhibition; and one that had cut his finger and had been a centre offascination and homage up to this time, now found himself suddenlywithout an adherent, and shorn of his glory. His heart was heavy, andhe said with a disdain which he did not feel that it wasn't anything tospit like Tom Sawyer; but another boy said, "Sour grapes!" and hewandered away a dismantled hero. 

Shortly Tom came upon the juvenile pariah of the village, HuckleberryFinn, son of the town drunkard. Huckleberry was cordially hated anddreaded by all the mothers of the town, because he was idle and lawlessand vulgar and bad--and because all their children admired him so, anddelighted in his forbidden society, and wished they dared to be likehim. Tom was like the rest of the respectable boys, in that he enviedHuckleberry his gaudy outcast condition, and was under strict ordersnot to play with him. So he played with him every time he got a chance. Huckleberry was always dressed in the cast-off clothes of full-grownmen, and they were in perennial bloom and fluttering with rags. His hatwas a vast ruin with a wide crescent lopped out of its brim; his coat, when he wore one, hung nearly to his heels and had the rearward buttonsfar down the back; but one suspender supported his trousers; the seatof the trousers bagged low and contained nothing, the fringed legsdragged in the dirt when not rolled up. 

Huckleberry came and went, at his own free will. He slept on doorstepsin fine weather and in empty hogsheads in wet; he did not have to go toschool or to church, or call any being master or obey anybody; he couldgo fishing or swimming when and where he chose, and stay as long as itsuited him; nobody forbade him to fight; he could sit up as late as hepleased; he was always the first boy that went barefoot in the springand the last to resume leather in the fall; he never had to wash, norput on clean clothes; he could swear wonderfully. In a word, everythingthat goes to make life precious that boy had. So thought everyharassed, hampered, respectable boy in St. Petersburg. 

Tom hailed the romantic outcast:

"Hello, Huckleberry!"

"Hello yourself, and see how you like it. "

"What's that you got?"

"Dead cat. "

"Lemme see him, Huck. My, he's pretty stiff. Where'd you get him?"

"Bought him off'n a boy. "

"What did you give?"

"I give a blue ticket and a bladder that I got at the slaughter-house. "

"Where'd you get the blue ticket?"

"Bought it off'n Ben Rogers two weeks ago for a hoop-stick. "

"Say--what is dead cats good for, Huck?"

"Good for? Cure warts with. "

"No! Is that so? I know something that's better. "

"I bet you don't. What is it?"

"Why, spunk-water. "

"Spunk-water! I wouldn't give a dern for spunk-water. "

"You wouldn't, wouldn't you? D'you ever try it?"

"No, I hain't. But Bob Tanner did. "

"Who told you so!"

"Why, he told Jeff Thatcher, and Jeff told Johnny Baker, and Johnnytold Jim Hollis, and Jim told Ben Rogers, and Ben told a nigger, andthe nigger told me. There now!"

"Well, what of it? They'll all lie. Leastways all but the nigger. Idon't know HIM. But I never see a nigger that WOULDN'T lie. Shucks! Nowyou tell me how Bob Tanner done it, Huck. "

"Why, he took and dipped his hand in a rotten stump where therain-water was. "

"In the daytime?"

"Certainly. "

"With his face to the stump?"

"Yes. Least I reckon so. "

"Did he say anything?"

"I don't reckon he did. I don't know. "

"Aha! Talk about trying to cure warts with spunk-water such a blamefool way as that! Why, that ain't a-going to do any good. You got to goall by yourself, to the middle of the woods, where you know there's aspunk-water stump, and just as it's midnight you back up against thestump and jam your hand in and say:

 'Barley-corn, barley-corn, injun-meal shorts, Spunk-water, spunk-water, swaller these warts, '

and then walk away quick, eleven steps, with your eyes shut, and thenturn around three times and walk home without speaking to anybody. Because if you speak the charm's busted. "

"Well, that sounds like a good way; but that ain't the way Bob Tannerdone. "

"No, sir, you can bet he didn't, becuz he's the wartiest boy in thistown; and he wouldn't have a wart on him if he'd knowed how to workspunk-water. I've took off thousands of warts off of my hands that way, Huck. I play with frogs so much that I've always got considerable manywarts. Sometimes I take 'em off with a bean. "

"Yes, bean's good. I've done that. "

"Have you? What's your way?"

"You take and split the bean, and cut the wart so as to get someblood, and then you put the blood on one piece of the bean and take anddig a hole and bury it 'bout midnight at the crossroads in the dark ofthe moon, and then you burn up the rest of the bean. You see that piecethat's got the blood on it will keep drawing and drawing, trying tofetch the other piece to it, and so that helps the blood to draw thewart, and pretty soon off she comes. "

"Yes, that's it, Huck--that's it; though when you're burying it if yousay 'Down bean; off wart; come no more to bother me!' it's better. That's the way Joe Harper does, and he's been nearly to Coonville andmost everywheres. But say--how do you cure 'em with dead cats?"

"Why, you take your cat and go and get in the graveyard 'long aboutmidnight when somebody that was wicked has been buried; and when it'smidnight a devil will come, or maybe two or three, but you can't see'em, you can only hear something like the wind, or maybe hear 'em talk;and when they're taking that feller away, you heave your cat after 'emand say, 'Devil follow corpse, cat follow devil, warts follow cat, I'mdone with ye!' That'll fetch ANY wart. "

"Sounds right. D'you ever try it, Huck?"

"No, but old Mother Hopkins told me. "

"Well, I reckon it's so, then. Becuz they say she's a witch. "

"Say! Why, Tom, I KNOW she is. She witched pap. Pap says so his ownself. He come along one day, and he see she was a-witching him, so hetook up a rock, and if she hadn't dodged, he'd a got her. Well, thatvery night he rolled off'n a shed wher' he was a layin drunk, and brokehis arm. "

"Why, that's awful. How did he know she was a-witching him?"

"Lord, pap can tell, easy. Pap says when they keep looking at youright stiddy, they're a-witching you. Specially if they mumble. Becuzwhen they mumble they're saying the Lord's Prayer backards. "

"Say, Hucky, when you going to try the cat?"

"To-night. I reckon they'll come after old Hoss Williams to-night. "

"But they buried him Saturday. Didn't they get him Saturday night?"

"Why, how you talk! How could their charms work till midnight?--andTHEN it's Sunday. Devils don't slosh around much of a Sunday, I don'treckon. "

"I never thought of that. That's so. Lemme go with you?"

"Of course--if you ain't afeard. "

"Afeard! 'Tain't likely. Will you meow?"

"Yes--and you meow back, if you get a chance. Last time, you kep' mea-meowing around till old Hays went to throwing rocks at me and says'Dern that cat!' and so I hove a brick through his window--but don'tyou tell. "

"I won't. I couldn't meow that night, becuz auntie was watching me, but I'll meow this time. Say--what's that?"

"Nothing but a tick. "

"Where'd you get him?"

"Out in the woods. "

"What'll you take for him?"

"I don't know. I don't want to sell him. "

"All right. It's a mighty small tick, anyway. "

"Oh, anybody can run a tick down that don't belong to them. I'msatisfied with it. It's a good enough tick for me. "

"Sho, there's ticks a plenty. I could have a thousand of 'em if Iwanted to. "

"Well, why don't you? Becuz you know mighty well you can't. This is apretty early tick, I reckon. It's the first one I've seen this year. "

"Say, Huck--I'll give you my tooth for him. "

"Less see it. "

Tom got out a bit of paper and carefully unrolled it. Huckleberryviewed it wistfully. The temptation was very strong. At last he said:

"Is it genuwyne?"

Tom lifted his lip and showed the vacancy. 

"Well, all right, " said Huckleberry, "it's a trade. "

Tom enclosed the tick in the percussion-cap box that had lately beenthe pinchbug's prison, and the boys separated, each feeling wealthierthan before. 

When Tom reached the little isolated frame schoolhouse, he strode inbriskly, with the manner of one who had come with all honest speed. He hung his hat on a peg and flung himself into his seat withbusiness-like alacrity. The master, throned on high in his greatsplint-bottom arm-chair, was dozing, lulled by the drowsy hum of study. The interruption roused him. 

"Thomas Sawyer!"

Tom knew that when his name was pronounced in full, it meant trouble. 

"Sir!"

"Come up here. Now, sir, why are you late again, as usual?"

Tom was about to take refuge in a lie, when he saw two long tails ofyellow hair hanging down a back that he recognized by the electricsympathy of love; and by that form was THE ONLY VACANT PLACE on thegirls' side of the schoolhouse. He instantly said:

"I STOPPED TO TALK WITH HUCKLEBERRY FINN!"

The master's pulse stood still, and he stared helplessly. The buzz ofstudy ceased. The pupils wondered if this foolhardy boy had lost hismind. The master said:

"You--you did what?"

"Stopped to talk with Huckleberry Finn. "

There was no mistaking the words. 

"Thomas Sawyer, this is the most astounding confession I have everlistened to. No mere ferule will answer for this offence. Take off yourjacket. "

The master's arm performed until it was tired and the stock ofswitches notably diminished. Then the order followed:

"Now, sir, go and sit with the girls! And let this be a warning to you. "

The titter that rippled around the room appeared to abash the boy, butin reality that result was caused rather more by his worshipful awe ofhis unknown idol and the dread pleasure that lay in his high goodfortune. He sat down upon the end of the pine bench and the girlhitched herself away from him with a toss of her head. Nudges and winksand whispers traversed the room, but Tom sat still, with his arms uponthe long, low desk before him, and seemed to study his book. 

By and by attention ceased from him, and the accustomed school murmurrose upon the dull air once more. Presently the boy began to stealfurtive glances at the girl. She observed it, "made a mouth" at him andgave him the back of her head for the space of a minute. When shecautiously faced around again, a peach lay before her. She thrust itaway. Tom gently put it back. She thrust it away again, but with lessanimosity. Tom patiently returned it to its place. Then she let itremain. Tom scrawled on his slate, "Please take it--I got more. " Thegirl glanced at the words, but made no sign. Now the boy began to drawsomething on the slate, hiding his work with his left hand. For a timethe girl refused to notice; but her human curiosity presently began tomanifest itself by hardly perceptible signs. The boy worked on, apparently unconscious. The girl made a sort of noncommittal attempt tosee, but the boy did not betray that he was aware of it. At last shegave in and hesitatingly whispered:

"Let me see it. "

Tom partly uncovered a dismal caricature of a house with two gableends to it and a corkscrew of smoke issuing from the chimney. Then thegirl's interest began to fasten itself upon the work and she forgoteverything else. When it was finished, she gazed a moment, thenwhispered:

"It's nice--make a man. "

The artist erected a man in the front yard, that resembled a derrick. He could have stepped over the house; but the girl was nothypercritical; she was satisfied with the monster, and whispered:

"It's a beautiful man--now make me coming along. "

Tom drew an hour-glass with a full moon and straw limbs to it andarmed the spreading fingers with a portentous fan. The girl said:

"It's ever so nice--I wish I could draw. "

"It's easy, " whispered Tom, "I'll learn you. "

"Oh, will you? When?"

"At noon. Do you go home to dinner?"

"I'll stay if you will. "

"Good--that's a whack. What's your name?"

"Becky Thatcher. What's yours? Oh, I know. It's Thomas Sawyer. "

"That's the name they lick me by. I'm Tom when I'm good. You call meTom, will you?"

"Yes. "

Now Tom began to scrawl something on the slate, hiding the words fromthe girl. But she was not backward this time. She begged to see. Tomsaid:

"Oh, it ain't anything. "

"Yes it is. "

"No it ain't. You don't want to see. "

"Yes I do, indeed I do. Please let me. "

"You'll tell. "

"No I won't--deed and deed and double deed won't. "

"You won't tell anybody at all? Ever, as long as you live?"

"No, I won't ever tell ANYbody. Now let me. "

"Oh, YOU don't want to see!"

"Now that you treat me so, I WILL see. " And she put her small handupon his and a little scuffle ensued, Tom pretending to resist inearnest but letting his hand slip by degrees till these words wererevealed: "I LOVE YOU. "

"Oh, you bad thing!" And she hit his hand a smart rap, but reddenedand looked pleased, nevertheless. 

Just at this juncture the boy felt a slow, fateful grip closing on hisear, and a steady lifting impulse. In that wise he was borne across thehouse and deposited in his own seat, under a peppering fire of gigglesfrom the whole school. Then the master stood over him during a fewawful moments, and finally moved away to his throne without saying aword. But although Tom's ear tingled, his heart was jubilant. 

As the school quieted down Tom made an honest effort to study, but theturmoil within him was too great. In turn he took his place in thereading class and made a botch of it; then in the geography class andturned lakes into mountains, mountains into rivers, and rivers intocontinents, till chaos was come again; then in the spelling class, andgot "turned down, " by a succession of mere baby words, till he broughtup at the foot and yielded up the pewter medal which he had worn withostentation for months. 

CHAPTER VII

THE harder Tom tried to fasten his mind on his book, the more hisideas wandered. So at last, with a sigh and a yawn, he gave it up. Itseemed to him that the noon recess would never come. The air wasutterly dead. There was not a breath stirring. It was the sleepiest ofsleepy days. The drowsing murmur of the five and twenty studyingscholars soothed the soul like the spell that is in the murmur of bees. Away off in the flaming sunshine, Cardiff Hill lifted its soft greensides through a shimmering veil of heat, tinted with the purple ofdistance; a few birds floated on lazy wing high in the air; no otherliving thing was visible but some cows, and they were asleep. Tom'sheart ached to be free, or else to have something of interest to do topass the dreary time. His hand wandered into his pocket and his facelit up with a glow of gratitude that was prayer, though he did not knowit. Then furtively the percussion-cap box came out. He released thetick and put him on the long flat desk. The creature probably glowedwith a gratitude that amounted to prayer, too, at this moment, but itwas premature: for when he started thankfully to travel off, Tom turnedhim aside with a pin and made him take a new direction. 

Tom's bosom friend sat next him, suffering just as Tom had been, andnow he was deeply and gratefully interested in this entertainment in aninstant. This bosom friend was Joe Harper. The two boys were swornfriends all the week, and embattled enemies on Saturdays. Joe took apin out of his lapel and began to assist in exercising the prisoner. The sport grew in interest momently. Soon Tom said that they wereinterfering with each other, and neither getting the fullest benefit ofthe tick. So he put Joe's slate on the desk and drew a line down themiddle of it from top to bottom. 

"Now, " said he, "as long as he is on your side you can stir him up andI'll let him alone; but if you let him get away and get on my side, you're to leave him alone as long as I can keep him from crossing over. "

"All right, go ahead; start him up. "

The tick escaped from Tom, presently, and crossed the equator. Joeharassed him awhile, and then he got away and crossed back again. Thischange of base occurred often. While one boy was worrying the tick withabsorbing interest, the other would look on with interest as strong, the two heads bowed together over the slate, and the two souls dead toall things else. At last luck seemed to settle and abide with Joe. Thetick tried this, that, and the other course, and got as excited and asanxious as the boys themselves, but time and again just as he wouldhave victory in his very grasp, so to speak, and Tom's fingers would betwitching to begin, Joe's pin would deftly head him off, and keeppossession. At last Tom could stand it no longer. The temptation wastoo strong. So he reached out and lent a hand with his pin. Joe wasangry in a moment. Said he:

"Tom, you let him alone. "

"I only just want to stir him up a little, Joe. "

"No, sir, it ain't fair; you just let him alone. "

"Blame it, I ain't going to stir him much. "

"Let him alone, I tell you. "

"I won't!"

"You shall--he's on my side of the line. "

"Look here, Joe Harper, whose is that tick?"

"I don't care whose tick he is--he's on my side of the line, and yousha'n't touch him. "

"Well, I'll just bet I will, though. He's my tick and I'll do what Iblame please with him, or die!"

A tremendous whack came down on Tom's shoulders, and its duplicate onJoe's; and for the space of two minutes the dust continued to fly fromthe two jackets and the whole school to enjoy it. The boys had been tooabsorbed to notice the hush that had stolen upon the school awhilebefore when the master came tiptoeing down the room and stood overthem. He had contemplated a good part of the performance before hecontributed his bit of variety to it. 

When school broke up at noon, Tom flew to Becky Thatcher, andwhispered in her ear:

"Put on your bonnet and let on you're going home; and when you get tothe corner, give the rest of 'em the slip, and turn down through thelane and come back. I'll go the other way and come it over 'em the sameway. "

So the one went off with one group of scholars, and the other withanother. In a little while the two met at the bottom of the lane, andwhen they reached the school they had it all to themselves. Then theysat together, with a slate before them, and Tom gave Becky the penciland held her hand in his, guiding it, and so created another surprisinghouse. When the interest in art began to wane, the two fell to talking. Tom was swimming in bliss. He said:

"Do you love rats?"

"No! I hate them!"

"Well, I do, too--LIVE ones. But I mean dead ones, to swing round yourhead with a string. "

"No, I don't care for rats much, anyway. What I like is chewing-gum. "

"Oh, I should say so! I wish I had some now. "

"Do you? I've got some. I'll let you chew it awhile, but you must giveit back to me. "

That was agreeable, so they chewed it turn about, and dangled theirlegs against the bench in excess of contentment. 

"Was you ever at a circus?" said Tom. 

"Yes, and my pa's going to take me again some time, if I'm good. "

"I been to the circus three or four times--lots of times. Church ain'tshucks to a circus. There's things going on at a circus all the time. I'm going to be a clown in a circus when I grow up. "

"Oh, are you! That will be nice. They're so lovely, all spotted up. "

"Yes, that's so. And they get slathers of money--most a dollar a day, Ben Rogers says. Say, Becky, was you ever engaged?"

"What's that?"

"Why, engaged to be married. "

"No. "

"Would you like to?"

"I reckon so. I don't know. What is it like?"

"Like? Why it ain't like anything. You only just tell a boy you won'tever have anybody but him, ever ever ever, and then you kiss and that'sall. Anybody can do it. "

"Kiss? What do you kiss for?"

"Why, that, you know, is to--well, they always do that. "

"Everybody?"

"Why, yes, everybody that's in love with each other. Do you rememberwhat I wrote on the slate?"

"Ye--yes. "

"What was it?"

"I sha'n't tell you. "

"Shall I tell YOU?"

"Ye--yes--but some other time. "

"No, now. "

"No, not now--to-morrow. "

"Oh, no, NOW. Please, Becky--I'll whisper it, I'll whisper it ever soeasy. "

Becky hesitating, Tom took silence for consent, and passed his armabout her waist and whispered the tale ever so softly, with his mouthclose to her ear. And then he added:

"Now you whisper it to me--just the same. "

She resisted, for a while, and then said:

"You turn your face away so you can't see, and then I will. But youmustn't ever tell anybody--WILL you, Tom? Now you won't, WILL you?"

"No, indeed, indeed I won't. Now, Becky. "

He turned his face away. She bent timidly around till her breathstirred his curls and whispered, "I--love--you!"

Then she sprang away and ran around and around the desks and benches, with Tom after her, and took refuge in a corner at last, with herlittle white apron to her face. Tom clasped her about her neck andpleaded:

"Now, Becky, it's all done--all over but the kiss. Don't you be afraidof that--it ain't anything at all. Please, Becky. " And he tugged at herapron and the hands. 

By and by she gave up, and let her hands drop; her face, all glowingwith the struggle, came up and submitted. Tom kissed the red lips andsaid:

"Now it's all done, Becky. And always after this, you know, you ain'tever to love anybody but me, and you ain't ever to marry anybody butme, ever never and forever. Will you?"

"No, I'll never love anybody but you, Tom, and I'll never marryanybody but you--and you ain't to ever marry anybody but me, either. "

"Certainly. Of course. That's PART of it. And always coming to schoolor when we're going home, you're to walk with me, when there ain'tanybody looking--and you choose me and I choose you at parties, becausethat's the way you do when you're engaged. "

"It's so nice. I never heard of it before. "

"Oh, it's ever so gay! Why, me and Amy Lawrence--"

The big eyes told Tom his blunder and he stopped, confused. 

"Oh, Tom! Then I ain't the first you've ever been engaged to!"

The child began to cry. Tom said:

"Oh, don't cry, Becky, I don't care for her any more. "

"Yes, you do, Tom--you know you do. "

Tom tried to put his arm about her neck, but she pushed him away andturned her face to the wall, and went on crying. Tom tried again, withsoothing words in his mouth, and was repulsed again. Then his pride wasup, and he strode away and went outside. He stood about, restless anduneasy, for a while, glancing at the door, every now and then, hopingshe would repent and come to find him. But she did not. Then he beganto feel badly and fear that he was in the wrong. It was a hard strugglewith him to make new advances, now, but he nerved himself to it andentered. She was still standing back there in the corner, sobbing, withher face to the wall. Tom's heart smote him. He went to her and stood amoment, not knowing exactly how to proceed. Then he said hesitatingly:

"Becky, I--I don't care for anybody but you. "

No reply--but sobs. 

"Becky"--pleadingly. "Becky, won't you say something?"

More sobs. 

Tom got out his chiefest jewel, a brass knob from the top of anandiron, and passed it around her so that she could see it, and said:

"Please, Becky, won't you take it?"

She struck it to the floor. Then Tom marched out of the house and overthe hills and far away, to return to school no more that day. PresentlyBecky began to suspect. She ran to the door; he was not in sight; sheflew around to the play-yard; he was not there. Then she called:

"Tom! Come back, Tom!"

She listened intently, but there was no answer. She had no companionsbut silence and loneliness. So she sat down to cry again and upbraidherself; and by this time the scholars began to gather again, and shehad to hide her griefs and still her broken heart and take up the crossof a long, dreary, aching afternoon, with none among the strangersabout her to exchange sorrows with. 

CHAPTER VIII

TOM dodged hither and thither through lanes until he was well out ofthe track of returning scholars, and then fell into a moody jog. Hecrossed a small "branch" two or three times, because of a prevailingjuvenile superstition that to cross water baffled pursuit. Half an hourlater he was disappearing behind the Douglas mansion on the summit ofCardiff Hill, and the schoolhouse was hardly distinguishable away offin the valley behind him. He entered a dense wood, picked his pathlessway to the centre of it, and sat down on a mossy spot under a spreadingoak. There was not even a zephyr stirring; the dead noonday heat hadeven stilled the songs of the birds; nature lay in a trance that wasbroken by no sound but the occasional far-off hammering of awoodpecker, and this seemed to render the pervading silence and senseof loneliness the more profound. The boy's soul was steeped inmelancholy; his feelings were in happy accord with his surroundings. Hesat long with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands, meditating. It seemed to him that life was but a trouble, at best, andhe more than half envied Jimmy Hodges, so lately released; it must bevery peaceful, he thought, to lie and slumber and dream forever andever, with the wind whispering through the trees and caressing thegrass and the flowers over the grave, and nothing to bother and grieveabout, ever any more. If he only had a clean Sunday-school record hecould be willing to go, and be done with it all. Now as to this girl. What had he done? Nothing. He had meant the best in the world, and beentreated like a dog--like a very dog. She would be sorry some day--maybewhen it was too late. Ah, if he could only die TEMPORARILY!

But the elastic heart of youth cannot be compressed into oneconstrained shape long at a time. Tom presently began to driftinsensibly back into the concerns of this life again. What if he turnedhis back, now, and disappeared mysteriously? What if he went away--everso far away, into unknown countries beyond the seas--and never cameback any more! How would she feel then! The idea of being a clownrecurred to him now, only to fill him with disgust. For frivolity andjokes and spotted tights were an offense, when they intruded themselvesupon a spirit that was exalted into the vague august realm of theromantic. No, he would be a soldier, and return after long years, allwar-worn and illustrious. No--better still, he would join the Indians, and hunt buffaloes and go on the warpath in the mountain ranges and thetrackless great plains of the Far West, and away in the future comeback a great chief, bristling with feathers, hideous with paint, andprance into Sunday-school, some drowsy summer morning, with abloodcurdling war-whoop, and sear the eyeballs of all his companionswith unappeasable envy. But no, there was something gaudier even thanthis. He would be a pirate! That was it! NOW his future lay plainbefore him, and glowing with unimaginable splendor. How his name wouldfill the world, and make people shudder! How gloriously he would goplowing the dancing seas, in his long, low, black-hulled racer, theSpirit of the Storm, with his grisly flag flying at the fore! And atthe zenith of his fame, how he would suddenly appear at the old villageand stalk into church, brown and weather-beaten, in his black velvetdoublet and trunks, his great jack-boots, his crimson sash, his beltbristling with horse-pistols, his crime-rusted cutlass at his side, hisslouch hat with waving plumes, his black flag unfurled, with the skulland crossbones on it, and hear with swelling ecstasy the whisperings, "It's Tom Sawyer the Pirate!--the Black Avenger of the Spanish Main!"

Yes, it was settled; his career was determined. He would run away fromhome and enter upon it. He would start the very next morning. Thereforehe must now begin to get ready. He would collect his resourcestogether. He went to a rotten log near at hand and began to dig underone end of it with his Barlow knife. He soon struck wood that soundedhollow. He put his hand there and uttered this incantation impressively:

"What hasn't come here, come! What's here, stay here!"

Then he scraped away the dirt, and exposed a pine shingle. He took itup and disclosed a shapely little treasure-house whose bottom and sideswere of shingles. In it lay a marble. Tom's astonishment was boundless!He scratched his head with a perplexed air, and said:

"Well, that beats anything!"

Then he tossed the marble away pettishly, and stood cogitating. Thetruth was, that a superstition of his had failed, here, which he andall his comrades had always looked upon as infallible. If you buried amarble with certain necessary incantations, and left it alone afortnight, and then opened the place with the incantation he had justused, you would find that all the marbles you had ever lost hadgathered themselves together there, meantime, no matter how widely theyhad been separated. But now, this thing had actually and unquestionablyfailed. Tom's whole structure of faith was shaken to its foundations. He had many a time heard of this thing succeeding but never of itsfailing before. It did not occur to him that he had tried it severaltimes before, himself, but could never find the hiding-placesafterward. He puzzled over the matter some time, and finally decidedthat some witch had interfered and broken the charm. He thought hewould satisfy himself on that point; so he searched around till hefound a small sandy spot with a little funnel-shaped depression in it. He laid himself down and put his mouth close to this depression andcalled--

"Doodle-bug, doodle-bug, tell me what I want to know! Doodle-bug, doodle-bug, tell me what I want to know!"

The sand began to work, and presently a small black bug appeared for asecond and then darted under again in a fright. 

"He dasn't tell! So it WAS a witch that done it. I just knowed it. "

He well knew the futility of trying to contend against witches, so hegave up discouraged. But it occurred to him that he might as well havethe marble he had just thrown away, and therefore he went and made apatient search for it. But he could not find it. Now he went back tohis treasure-house and carefully placed himself just as he had beenstanding when he tossed the marble away; then he took another marblefrom his pocket and tossed it in the same way, saying:

"Brother, go find your brother!"

He watched where it stopped, and went there and looked. But it musthave fallen short or gone too far; so he tried twice more. The lastrepetition was successful. The two marbles lay within a foot of eachother. 

Just here the blast of a toy tin trumpet came faintly down the greenaisles of the forest. Tom flung off his jacket and trousers, turned asuspender into a belt, raked away some brush behind the rotten log, disclosing a rude bow and arrow, a lath sword and a tin trumpet, and ina moment had seized these things and bounded away, barelegged, withfluttering shirt. He presently halted under a great elm, blew ananswering blast, and then began to tiptoe and look warily out, this wayand that. He said cautiously--to an imaginary company:

"Hold, my merry men! Keep hid till I blow. "

Now appeared Joe Harper, as airily clad and elaborately armed as Tom. Tom called:

"Hold! Who comes here into Sherwood Forest without my pass?"

"Guy of Guisborne wants no man's pass. Who art thou that--that--"

"Dares to hold such language, " said Tom, prompting--for they talked"by the book, " from memory. 

"Who art thou that dares to hold such language?"

"I, indeed! I am Robin Hood, as thy caitiff carcase soon shall know. "

"Then art thou indeed that famous outlaw? Right gladly will I disputewith thee the passes of the merry wood. Have at thee!"

They took their lath swords, dumped their other traps on the ground, struck a fencing attitude, foot to foot, and began a grave, carefulcombat, "two up and two down. " Presently Tom said:

"Now, if you've got the hang, go it lively!"

So they "went it lively, " panting and perspiring with the work. By andby Tom shouted:

"Fall! fall! Why don't you fall?"

"I sha'n't! Why don't you fall yourself? You're getting the worst ofit. "

"Why, that ain't anything. I can't fall; that ain't the way it is inthe book. The book says, 'Then with one back-handed stroke he slew poorGuy of Guisborne. ' You're to turn around and let me hit you in theback. "

There was no getting around the authorities, so Joe turned, receivedthe whack and fell. 

"Now, " said Joe, getting up, "you got to let me kill YOU. That's fair. "

"Why, I can't do that, it ain't in the book. "

"Well, it's blamed mean--that's all. "

"Well, say, Joe, you can be Friar Tuck or Much the miller's son, andlam me with a quarter-staff; or I'll be the Sheriff of Nottingham andyou be Robin Hood a little while and kill me. "

This was satisfactory, and so these adventures were carried out. ThenTom became Robin Hood again, and was allowed by the treacherous nun tobleed his strength away through his neglected wound. And at last Joe, representing a whole tribe of weeping outlaws, dragged him sadly forth, gave his bow into his feeble hands, and Tom said, "Where this arrowfalls, there bury poor Robin Hood under the greenwood tree. " Then heshot the arrow and fell back and would have died, but he lit on anettle and sprang up too gaily for a corpse. 

The boys dressed themselves, hid their accoutrements, and went offgrieving that there were no outlaws any more, and wondering what moderncivilization could claim to have done to compensate for their loss. They said they would rather be outlaws a year in Sherwood Forest thanPresident of the United States forever. 

CHAPTER IX

AT half-past nine, that night, Tom and Sid were sent to bed, as usual. They said their prayers, and Sid was soon asleep. Tom lay awake andwaited, in restless impatience. When it seemed to him that it must benearly daylight, he heard the clock strike ten! This was despair. Hewould have tossed and fidgeted, as his nerves demanded, but he wasafraid he might wake Sid. So he lay still, and stared up into the dark. Everything was dismally still. By and by, out of the stillness, little, scarcely perceptible noises began to emphasize themselves. The tickingof the clock began to bring itself into notice. Old beams began tocrack mysteriously. The stairs creaked faintly. Evidently spirits wereabroad. A measured, muffled snore issued from Aunt Polly's chamber. Andnow the tiresome chirping of a cricket that no human ingenuity couldlocate, began. Next the ghastly ticking of a deathwatch in the wall atthe bed's head made Tom shudder--it meant that somebody's days werenumbered. Then the howl of a far-off dog rose on the night air, and wasanswered by a fainter howl from a remoter distance. Tom was in anagony. At last he was satisfied that time had ceased and eternitybegun; he began to doze, in spite of himself; the clock chimed eleven, but he did not hear it. And then there came, mingling with hishalf-formed dreams, a most melancholy caterwauling. The raising of aneighboring window disturbed him. A cry of "Scat! you devil!" and thecrash of an empty bottle against the back of his aunt's woodshedbrought him wide awake, and a single minute later he was dressed andout of the window and creeping along the roof of the "ell" on allfours. He "meow'd" with caution once or twice, as he went; then jumpedto the roof of the woodshed and thence to the ground. Huckleberry Finnwas there, with his dead cat. The boys moved off and disappeared in thegloom. At the end of half an hour they were wading through the tallgrass of the graveyard. 

It was a graveyard of the old-fashioned Western kind. It was on ahill, about a mile and a half from the village. It had a crazy boardfence around it, which leaned inward in places, and outward the rest ofthe time, but stood upright nowhere. Grass and weeds grew rank over thewhole cemetery. All the old graves were sunken in, there was not atombstone on the place; round-topped, worm-eaten boards staggered overthe graves, leaning for support and finding none. "Sacred to the memoryof" So-and-So had been painted on them once, but it could no longerhave been read, on the most of them, now, even if there had been light. 

A faint wind moaned through the trees, and Tom feared it might be thespirits of the dead, complaining at being disturbed. The boys talkedlittle, and only under their breath, for the time and the place and thepervading solemnity and silence oppressed their spirits. They found thesharp new heap they were seeking, and ensconced themselves within theprotection of three great elms that grew in a bunch within a few feetof the grave. 

Then they waited in silence for what seemed a long time. The hootingof a distant owl was all the sound that troubled the dead stillness. Tom's reflections grew oppressive. He must force some talk. So he saidin a whisper:

"Hucky, do you believe the dead people like it for us to be here?"

Huckleberry whispered:

"I wisht I knowed. It's awful solemn like, AIN'T it?"

"I bet it is. "

There was a considerable pause, while the boys canvassed this matterinwardly. Then Tom whispered:

"Say, Hucky--do you reckon Hoss Williams hears us talking?"

"O' course he does. Least his sperrit does. "

Tom, after a pause:

"I wish I'd said Mister Williams. But I never meant any harm. Everybody calls him Hoss. "

"A body can't be too partic'lar how they talk 'bout these-yer deadpeople, Tom. "

This was a damper, and conversation died again. 

Presently Tom seized his comrade's arm and said:

"Sh!"

"What is it, Tom?" And the two clung together with beating hearts. 

"Sh! There 'tis again! Didn't you hear it?"

"I--"

"There! Now you hear it. "

"Lord, Tom, they're coming! They're coming, sure. What'll we do?"

"I dono. Think they'll see us?"

"Oh, Tom, they can see in the dark, same as cats. I wisht I hadn'tcome. "

"Oh, don't be afeard. I don't believe they'll bother us. We ain'tdoing any harm. If we keep perfectly still, maybe they won't notice usat all. "

"I'll try to, Tom, but, Lord, I'm all of a shiver. "

"Listen!"

The boys bent their heads together and scarcely breathed. A muffledsound of voices floated up from the far end of the graveyard. 

"Look! See there!" whispered Tom. "What is it?"

"It's devil-fire. Oh, Tom, this is awful. "

Some vague figures approached through the gloom, swinging anold-fashioned tin lantern that freckled the ground with innumerablelittle spangles of light. Presently Huckleberry whispered with ashudder:

"It's the devils sure enough. Three of 'em! Lordy, Tom, we're goners!Can you pray?"

"I'll try, but don't you be afeard. They ain't going to hurt us. 'NowI lay me down to sleep, I--'"

"Sh!"

"What is it, Huck?"

"They're HUMANS! One of 'em is, anyway. One of 'em's old Muff Potter'svoice. "

"No--'tain't so, is it?"

"I bet I know it. Don't you stir nor budge. He ain't sharp enough tonotice us. Drunk, the same as usual, likely--blamed old rip!"

"All right, I'll keep still. Now they're stuck. Can't find it. Herethey come again. Now they're hot. Cold again. Hot again. Red hot!They're p'inted right, this time. Say, Huck, I know another o' themvoices; it's Injun Joe. "

"That's so--that murderin' half-breed! I'd druther they was devils adern sight. What kin they be up to?"

The whisper died wholly out, now, for the three men had reached thegrave and stood within a few feet of the boys' hiding-place. 

"Here it is, " said the third voice; and the owner of it held thelantern up and revealed the face of young Doctor Robinson. 

Potter and Injun Joe were carrying a handbarrow with a rope and acouple of shovels on it. They cast down their load and began to openthe grave. The doctor put the lantern at the head of the grave and cameand sat down with his back against one of the elm trees. He was soclose the boys could have touched him. 

"Hurry, men!" he said, in a low voice; "the moon might come out at anymoment. "

They growled a response and went on digging. For some time there wasno noise but the grating sound of the spades discharging their freightof mould and gravel. It was very monotonous. Finally a spade struckupon the coffin with a dull woody accent, and within another minute ortwo the men had hoisted it out on the ground. They pried off the lidwith their shovels, got out the body and dumped it rudely on theground. The moon drifted from behind the clouds and exposed the pallidface. The barrow was got ready and the corpse placed on it, coveredwith a blanket, and bound to its place with the rope. Potter took out alarge spring-knife and cut off the dangling end of the rope and thensaid:

"Now the cussed thing's ready, Sawbones, and you'll just out withanother five, or here she stays. "

"That's the talk!" said Injun Joe. 

"Look here, what does this mean?" said the doctor. "You required yourpay in advance, and I've paid you. "

"Yes, and you done more than that, " said Injun Joe, approaching thedoctor, who was now standing. "Five years ago you drove me away fromyour father's kitchen one night, when I come to ask for something toeat, and you said I warn't there for any good; and when I swore I'd geteven with you if it took a hundred years, your father had me jailed fora vagrant. Did you think I'd forget? The Injun blood ain't in me fornothing. And now I've GOT you, and you got to SETTLE, you know!"

He was threatening the doctor, with his fist in his face, by thistime. The doctor struck out suddenly and stretched the ruffian on theground. Potter dropped his knife, and exclaimed:

"Here, now, don't you hit my pard!" and the next moment he hadgrappled with the doctor and the two were struggling with might andmain, trampling the grass and tearing the ground with their heels. Injun Joe sprang to his feet, his eyes flaming with passion, snatchedup Potter's knife, and went creeping, catlike and stooping, round andround about the combatants, seeking an opportunity. All at once thedoctor flung himself free, seized the heavy headboard of Williams'grave and felled Potter to the earth with it--and in the same instantthe half-breed saw his chance and drove the knife to the hilt in theyoung man's breast. He reeled and fell partly upon Potter, flooding himwith his blood, and in the same moment the clouds blotted out thedreadful spectacle and the two frightened boys went speeding away inthe dark. 

Presently, when the moon emerged again, Injun Joe was standing overthe two forms, contemplating them. The doctor murmured inarticulately, gave a long gasp or two and was still. The half-breed muttered:

"THAT score is settled--damn you. "

Then he robbed the body. After which he put the fatal knife inPotter's open right hand, and sat down on the dismantled coffin. Three--four--five minutes passed, and then Potter began to stir and moan. Hishand closed upon the knife; he raised it, glanced at it, and let itfall, with a shudder. Then he sat up, pushing the body from him, andgazed at it, and then around him, confusedly. His eyes met Joe's. 

"Lord, how is this, Joe?" he said. 

"It's a dirty business, " said Joe, without moving. 

"What did you do it for?"

"I! I never done it!"

"Look here! That kind of talk won't wash. "

Potter trembled and grew white. 

"I thought I'd got sober. I'd no business to drink to-night. But it'sin my head yet--worse'n when we started here. I'm all in a muddle;can't recollect anything of it, hardly. Tell me, Joe--HONEST, now, oldfeller--did I do it? Joe, I never meant to--'pon my soul and honor, Inever meant to, Joe. Tell me how it was, Joe. Oh, it's awful--and himso young and promising. "

"Why, you two was scuffling, and he fetched you one with the headboardand you fell flat; and then up you come, all reeling and staggeringlike, and snatched the knife and jammed it into him, just as he fetchedyou another awful clip--and here you've laid, as dead as a wedge tilnow. "

"Oh, I didn't know what I was a-doing. I wish I may die this minute ifI did. It was all on account of the whiskey and the excitement, Ireckon. I never used a weepon in my life before, Joe. I've fought, butnever with weepons. They'll all say that. Joe, don't tell! Say youwon't tell, Joe--that's a good feller. I always liked you, Joe, andstood up for you, too. Don't you remember? You WON'T tell, WILL you, Joe?" And the poor creature dropped on his knees before the stolidmurderer, and clasped his appealing hands. 

"No, you've always been fair and square with me, Muff Potter, and Iwon't go back on you. There, now, that's as fair as a man can say. "

"Oh, Joe, you're an angel. I'll bless you for this the longest day Ilive. " And Potter began to cry. 

"Come, now, that's enough of that. This ain't any time for blubbering. You be off yonder way and I'll go this. Move, now, and don't leave anytracks behind you. "

Potter started on a trot that quickly increased to a run. Thehalf-breed stood looking after him. He muttered:

"If he's as much stunned with the lick and fuddled with the rum as hehad the look of being, he won't think of the knife till he's gone sofar he'll be afraid to come back after it to such a place by himself--chicken-heart!"

Two or three minutes later the murdered man, the blanketed corpse, thelidless coffin, and the open grave were under no inspection but themoon's. The stillness was complete again, too. 

CHAPTER X

THE two boys flew on and on, toward the village, speechless withhorror. They glanced backward over their shoulders from time to time, apprehensively, as if they feared they might be followed. Every stumpthat started up in their path seemed a man and an enemy, and made themcatch their breath; and as they sped by some outlying cottages that laynear the village, the barking of the aroused watch-dogs seemed to givewings to their feet. 

"If we can only get to the old tannery before we break down!"whispered Tom, in short catches between breaths. "I can't stand it muchlonger. "

Huckleberry's hard pantings were his only reply, and the boys fixedtheir eyes on the goal of their hopes and bent to their work to win it. They gained steadily on it, and at last, breast to breast, they burstthrough the open door and fell grateful and exhausted in the shelteringshadows beyond. By and by their pulses slowed down, and Tom whispered:

"Huckleberry, what do you reckon'll come of this?"

"If Doctor Robinson dies, I reckon hanging'll come of it. "

"Do you though?"

"Why, I KNOW it, Tom. "

Tom thought a while, then he said:

"Who'll tell? We?"

"What are you talking about? S'pose something happened and Injun JoeDIDN'T hang? Why, he'd kill us some time or other, just as dead sure aswe're a laying here. "

"That's just what I was thinking to myself, Huck. "

"If anybody tells, let Muff Potter do it, if he's fool enough. He'sgenerally drunk enough. "

Tom said nothing--went on thinking. Presently he whispered:

"Huck, Muff Potter don't know it. How can he tell?"

"What's the reason he don't know it?"

"Because he'd just got that whack when Injun Joe done it. D'you reckonhe could see anything? D'you reckon he knowed anything?"

"By hokey, that's so, Tom!"

"And besides, look-a-here--maybe that whack done for HIM!"

"No, 'taint likely, Tom. He had liquor in him; I could see that; andbesides, he always has. Well, when pap's full, you might take and belthim over the head with a church and you couldn't phase him. He says so, his own self. So it's the same with Muff Potter, of course. But if aman was dead sober, I reckon maybe that whack might fetch him; I dono. "

After another reflective silence, Tom said:

"Hucky, you sure you can keep mum?"

"Tom, we GOT to keep mum. You know that. That Injun devil wouldn'tmake any more of drownding us than a couple of cats, if we was tosqueak 'bout this and they didn't hang him. Now, look-a-here, Tom, lesstake and swear to one another--that's what we got to do--swear to keepmum. "

"I'm agreed. It's the best thing. Would you just hold hands and swearthat we--"

"Oh no, that wouldn't do for this. That's good enough for littlerubbishy common things--specially with gals, cuz THEY go back on youanyway, and blab if they get in a huff--but there orter be writing'bout a big thing like this. And blood. "

Tom's whole being applauded this idea. It was deep, and dark, andawful; the hour, the circumstances, the surroundings, were in keepingwith it. He picked up a clean pine shingle that lay in the moonlight, took a little fragment of "red keel" out of his pocket, got the moon onhis work, and painfully scrawled these lines, emphasizing each slowdown-stroke by clamping his tongue between his teeth, and letting upthe pressure on the up-strokes. [See next page. ]

 "Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer swears they will keep mum about This and They wish They may Drop down dead in Their Tracks if They ever Tell and Rot. "

Huckleberry was filled with admiration of Tom's facility in writing, and the sublimity of his language. He at once took a pin from his lapeland was going to prick his flesh, but Tom said:

"Hold on! Don't do that. A pin's brass. It might have verdigrease onit. "

"What's verdigrease?"

"It's p'ison. That's what it is. You just swaller some of it once--you'll see. "

So Tom unwound the thread from one of his needles, and each boypricked the ball of his thumb and squeezed out a drop of blood. Intime, after many squeezes, Tom managed to sign his initials, using theball of his little finger for a pen. Then he showed Huckleberry how tomake an H and an F, and the oath was complete. They buried the shingleclose to the wall, with some dismal ceremonies and incantations, andthe fetters that bound their tongues were considered to be locked andthe key thrown away. 

A figure crept stealthily through a break in the other end of theruined building, now, but they did not notice it. 

"Tom, " whispered Huckleberry, "does this keep us from EVER telling--ALWAYS?"

"Of course it does. It don't make any difference WHAT happens, we gotto keep mum. We'd drop down dead--don't YOU know that?"

"Yes, I reckon that's so. "

They continued to whisper for some little time. Presently a dog set upa long, lugubrious howl just outside--within ten feet of them. The boysclasped each other suddenly, in an agony of fright. 

"Which of us does he mean?" gasped Huckleberry. 

"I dono--peep through the crack. Quick!"

"No, YOU, Tom!"

"I can't--I can't DO it, Huck!"

"Please, Tom. There 'tis again!"

"Oh, lordy, I'm thankful!" whispered Tom. "I know his voice. It's BullHarbison. " *

[* If Mr. Harbison owned a slave named Bull, Tom would have spoken ofhim as "Harbison's Bull, " but a son or a dog of that name was "BullHarbison. "]

"Oh, that's good--I tell you, Tom, I was most scared to death; I'd abet anything it was a STRAY dog. "

The dog howled again. The boys' hearts sank once more. 

"Oh, my! that ain't no Bull Harbison!" whispered Huckleberry. "DO, Tom!"

Tom, quaking with fear, yielded, and put his eye to the crack. Hiswhisper was hardly audible when he said:

"Oh, Huck, IT S A STRAY DOG!"

"Quick, Tom, quick! Who does he mean?"

"Huck, he must mean us both--we're right together. "

"Oh, Tom, I reckon we're goners. I reckon there ain't no mistake 'boutwhere I'LL go to. I been so wicked. "

"Dad fetch it! This comes of playing hookey and doing everything afeller's told NOT to do. I might a been good, like Sid, if I'd a tried--but no, I wouldn't, of course. But if ever I get off this time, I layI'll just WALLER in Sunday-schools!" And Tom began to snuffle a little. 

"YOU bad!" and Huckleberry began to snuffle too. "Consound it, TomSawyer, you're just old pie, 'longside o' what I am. Oh, LORDY, lordy, lordy, I wisht I only had half your chance. "

Tom choked off and whispered:

"Look, Hucky, look! He's got his BACK to us!"

Hucky looked, with joy in his heart. 

"Well, he has, by jingoes! Did he before?"

"Yes, he did. But I, like a fool, never thought. Oh, this is bully, you know. NOW who can he mean?"

The howling stopped. Tom pricked up his ears. 

"Sh! What's that?" he whispered. 

"Sounds like--like hogs grunting. No--it's somebody snoring, Tom. "

"That IS it! Where 'bouts is it, Huck?"

"I bleeve it's down at 'tother end. Sounds so, anyway. Pap used tosleep there, sometimes, 'long with the hogs, but laws bless you, hejust lifts things when HE snores. Besides, I reckon he ain't evercoming back to this town any more. "

The spirit of adventure rose in the boys' souls once more. 

"Hucky, do you das't to go if I lead?"

"I don't like to, much. Tom, s'pose it's Injun Joe!"

Tom quailed. But presently the temptation rose up strong again and theboys agreed to try, with the understanding that they would take totheir heels if the snoring stopped. So they went tiptoeing stealthilydown, the one behind the other. When they had got to within five stepsof the snorer, Tom stepped on a stick, and it broke with a sharp snap. The man moaned, writhed a little, and his face came into the moonlight. It was Muff Potter. The boys' hearts had stood still, and their hopestoo, when the man moved, but their fears passed away now. They tiptoedout, through the broken weather-boarding, and stopped at a littledistance to exchange a parting word. That long, lugubrious howl rose onthe night air again! They turned and saw the strange dog standingwithin a few feet of where Potter was lying, and FACING Potter, withhis nose pointing heavenward. 

"Oh, geeminy, it's HIM!" exclaimed both boys, in a breath. 

"Say, Tom--they say a stray dog come howling around Johnny Miller'shouse, 'bout midnight, as much as two weeks ago; and a whippoorwillcome in and lit on the banisters and sung, the very same evening; andthere ain't anybody dead there yet. "

"Well, I know that. And suppose there ain't. Didn't Gracie Miller fallin the kitchen fire and burn herself terrible the very next Saturday?"

"Yes, but she ain't DEAD. And what's more, she's getting better, too. "

"All right, you wait and see. She's a goner, just as dead sure as MuffPotter's a goner. That's what the niggers say, and they know all aboutthese kind of things, Huck. "

Then they separated, cogitating. When Tom crept in at his bedroomwindow the night was almost spent. He undressed with excessive caution, and fell asleep congratulating himself that nobody knew of hisescapade. He was not aware that the gently-snoring Sid was awake, andhad been so for an hour. 

When Tom awoke, Sid was dressed and gone. There was a late look in thelight, a late sense in the atmosphere. He was startled. Why had he notbeen called--persecuted till he was up, as usual? The thought filledhim with bodings. Within five minutes he was dressed and down-stairs, feeling sore and drowsy. The family were still at table, but they hadfinished breakfast. There was no voice of rebuke; but there wereaverted eyes; there was a silence and an air of solemnity that struck achill to the culprit's heart. He sat down and tried to seem gay, but itwas up-hill work; it roused no smile, no response, and he lapsed intosilence and let his heart sink down to the depths. 

After breakfast his aunt took him aside, and Tom almost brightened inthe hope that he was going to be flogged; but it was not so. His auntwept over him and asked him how he could go and break her old heart so;and finally told him to go on, and ruin himself and bring her grayhairs with sorrow to the grave, for it was no use for her to try anymore. This was worse than a thousand whippings, and Tom's heart wassorer now than his body. He cried, he pleaded for forgiveness, promisedto reform over and over again, and then received his dismissal, feelingthat he had won but an imperfect forgiveness and established but afeeble confidence. 

He left the presence too miserable to even feel revengeful toward Sid;and so the latter's prompt retreat through the back gate wasunnecessary. He moped to school gloomy and sad, and took his flogging, along with Joe Harper, for playing hookey the day before, with the airof one whose heart was busy with heavier woes and wholly dead totrifles. Then he betook himself to his seat, rested his elbows on hisdesk and his jaws in his hands, and stared at the wall with the stonystare of suffering that has reached the limit and can no further go. His elbow was pressing against some hard substance. After a long timehe slowly and sadly changed his position, and took up this object witha sigh. It was in a paper. He unrolled it. A long, lingering, colossalsigh followed, and his heart broke. It was his brass andiron knob!

This final feather broke the camel's back. 

CHAPTER XI

CLOSE upon the hour of noon the whole village was suddenly electrifiedwith the ghastly news. No need of the as yet undreamed-of telegraph;the tale flew from man to man, from group to group, from house tohouse, with little less than telegraphic speed. Of course theschoolmaster gave holiday for that afternoon; the town would havethought strangely of him if he had not. 

A gory knife had been found close to the murdered man, and it had beenrecognized by somebody as belonging to Muff Potter--so the story ran. And it was said that a belated citizen had come upon Potter washinghimself in the "branch" about one or two o'clock in the morning, andthat Potter had at once sneaked off--suspicious circumstances, especially the washing which was not a habit with Potter. It was alsosaid that the town had been ransacked for this "murderer" (the publicare not slow in the matter of sifting evidence and arriving at averdict), but that he could not be found. Horsemen had departed downall the roads in every direction, and the Sheriff "was confident" thathe would be captured before night. 

All the town was drifting toward the graveyard. Tom's heartbreakvanished and he joined the procession, not because he would not athousand times rather go anywhere else, but because an awful, unaccountable fascination drew him on. Arrived at the dreadful place, he wormed his small body through the crowd and saw the dismalspectacle. It seemed to him an age since he was there before. Somebodypinched his arm. He turned, and his eyes met Huckleberry's. Then bothlooked elsewhere at once, and wondered if anybody had noticed anythingin their mutual glance. But everybody was talking, and intent upon thegrisly spectacle before them. 

"Poor fellow!" "Poor young fellow!" "This ought to be a lesson tograve robbers!" "Muff Potter'll hang for this if they catch him!" Thiswas the drift of remark; and the minister said, "It was a judgment; Hishand is here. "

Now Tom shivered from head to heel; for his eye fell upon the stolidface of Injun Joe. At this moment the crowd began to sway and struggle, and voices shouted, "It's him! it's him! he's coming himself!"

"Who? Who?" from twenty voices. 

"Muff Potter!"

"Hallo, he's stopped!--Look out, he's turning! Don't let him get away!"

People in the branches of the trees over Tom's head said he wasn'ttrying to get away--he only looked doubtful and perplexed. 

"Infernal impudence!" said a bystander; "wanted to come and take aquiet look at his work, I reckon--didn't expect any company. "

The crowd fell apart, now, and the Sheriff came through, ostentatiously leading Potter by the arm. The poor fellow's face washaggard, and his eyes showed the fear that was upon him. When he stoodbefore the murdered man, he shook as with a palsy, and he put his facein his hands and burst into tears. 

"I didn't do it, friends, " he sobbed; "'pon my word and honor I neverdone it. "

"Who's accused you?" shouted a voice. 

This shot seemed to carry home. Potter lifted his face and lookedaround him with a pathetic hopelessness in his eyes. He saw Injun Joe, and exclaimed:

"Oh, Injun Joe, you promised me you'd never--"

"Is that your knife?" and it was thrust before him by the Sheriff. 

Potter would have fallen if they had not caught him and eased him tothe ground. Then he said:

"Something told me 't if I didn't come back and get--" He shuddered;then waved his nerveless hand with a vanquished gesture and said, "Tell'em, Joe, tell 'em--it ain't any use any more. "

Then Huckleberry and Tom stood dumb and staring, and heard thestony-hearted liar reel off his serene statement, they expecting everymoment that the clear sky would deliver God's lightnings upon his head, and wondering to see how long the stroke was delayed. And when he hadfinished and still stood alive and whole, their wavering impulse tobreak their oath and save the poor betrayed prisoner's life faded andvanished away, for plainly this miscreant had sold himself to Satan andit would be fatal to meddle with the property of such a power as that. 

"Why didn't you leave? What did you want to come here for?" somebodysaid. 

"I couldn't help it--I couldn't help it, " Potter moaned. "I wanted torun away, but I couldn't seem to come anywhere but here. " And he fellto sobbing again. 

Injun Joe repeated his statement, just as calmly, a few minutesafterward on the inquest, under oath; and the boys, seeing that thelightnings were still withheld, were confirmed in their belief that Joehad sold himself to the devil. He was now become, to them, the mostbalefully interesting object they had ever looked upon, and they couldnot take their fascinated eyes from his face. 

They inwardly resolved to watch him nights, when opportunity shouldoffer, in the hope of getting a glimpse of his dread master. 

Injun Joe helped to raise the body of the murdered man and put it in awagon for removal; and it was whispered through the shuddering crowdthat the wound bled a little! The boys thought that this happycircumstance would turn suspicion in the right direction; but they weredisappointed, for more than one villager remarked:

"It was within three feet of Muff Potter when it done it. "

Tom's fearful secret and gnawing conscience disturbed his sleep for asmuch as a week after this; and at breakfast one morning Sid said:

"Tom, you pitch around and talk in your sleep so much that you keep meawake half the time. "

Tom blanched and dropped his eyes. 

"It's a bad sign, " said Aunt Polly, gravely. "What you got on yourmind, Tom?"

"Nothing. Nothing 't I know of. " But the boy's hand shook so that hespilled his coffee. 

"And you do talk such stuff, " Sid said. "Last night you said, 'It'sblood, it's blood, that's what it is!' You said that over and over. Andyou said, 'Don't torment me so--I'll tell!' Tell WHAT? What is ityou'll tell?"

Everything was swimming before Tom. There is no telling what mighthave happened, now, but luckily the concern passed out of Aunt Polly'sface and she came to Tom's relief without knowing it. She said:

"Sho! It's that dreadful murder. I dream about it most every nightmyself. Sometimes I dream it's me that done it. "

Mary said she had been affected much the same way. Sid seemedsatisfied. Tom got out of the presence as quick as he plausibly could, and after that he complained of toothache for a week, and tied up hisjaws every night. He never knew that Sid lay nightly watching, andfrequently slipped the bandage free and then leaned on his elbowlistening a good while at a time, and afterward slipped the bandageback to its place again. Tom's distress of mind wore off gradually andthe toothache grew irksome and was discarded. If Sid really managed tomake anything out of Tom's disjointed mutterings, he kept it to himself. 

It seemed to Tom that his schoolmates never would get done holdinginquests on dead cats, and thus keeping his trouble present to hismind. Sid noticed that Tom never was coroner at one of these inquiries, though it had been his habit to take the lead in all new enterprises;he noticed, too, that Tom never acted as a witness--and that wasstrange; and Sid did not overlook the fact that Tom even showed amarked aversion to these inquests, and always avoided them when hecould. Sid marvelled, but said nothing. However, even inquests went outof vogue at last, and ceased to torture Tom's conscience. 

Every day or two, during this time of sorrow, Tom watched hisopportunity and went to the little grated jail-window and smuggled suchsmall comforts through to the "murderer" as he could get hold of. Thejail was a trifling little brick den that stood in a marsh at the edgeof the village, and no guards were afforded for it; indeed, it wasseldom occupied. These offerings greatly helped to ease Tom'sconscience. 

The villagers had a strong desire to tar-and-feather Injun Joe andride him on a rail, for body-snatching, but so formidable was hischaracter that nobody could be found who was willing to take the leadin the matter, so it was dropped. He had been careful to begin both ofhis inquest-statements with the fight, without confessing thegrave-robbery that preceded it; therefore it was deemed wisest notto try the case in the courts at present. 

CHAPTER XII

ONE of the reasons why Tom's mind had drifted away from its secrettroubles was, that it had found a new and weighty matter to interestitself about. Becky Thatcher had stopped coming to school. Tom hadstruggled with his pride a few days, and tried to "whistle her down thewind, " but failed. He began to find himself hanging around her father'shouse, nights, and feeling very miserable. She was ill. What if sheshould die! There was distraction in the thought. He no longer took aninterest in war, nor even in piracy. The charm of life was gone; therewas nothing but dreariness left. He put his hoop away, and his bat;there was no joy in them any more. His aunt was concerned. She began totry all manner of remedies on him. She was one of those people who areinfatuated with patent medicines and all new-fangled methods ofproducing health or mending it. She was an inveterate experimenter inthese things. When something fresh in this line came out she was in afever, right away, to try it; not on herself, for she was never ailing, but on anybody else that came handy. She was a subscriber for all the"Health" periodicals and phrenological frauds; and the solemn ignorancethey were inflated with was breath to her nostrils. All the "rot" theycontained about ventilation, and how to go to bed, and how to get up, and what to eat, and what to drink, and how much exercise to take, andwhat frame of mind to keep one's self in, and what sort of clothing towear, was all gospel to her, and she never observed that herhealth-journals of the current month customarily upset everything theyhad recommended the month before. She was as simple-hearted and honestas the day was long, and so she was an easy victim. She gatheredtogether her quack periodicals and her quack medicines, and thus armedwith death, went about on her pale horse, metaphorically speaking, with"hell following after. " But she never suspected that she was not anangel of healing and the balm of Gilead in disguise, to the sufferingneighbors. 

The water treatment was new, now, and Tom's low condition was awindfall to her. She had him out at daylight every morning, stood himup in the woodshed and drowned him with a deluge of cold water; thenshe scrubbed him down with a towel like a file, and so brought him to;then she rolled him up in a wet sheet and put him away under blanketstill she sweated his soul clean and "the yellow stains of it camethrough his pores"--as Tom said. 

Yet notwithstanding all this, the boy grew more and more melancholyand pale and dejected. She added hot baths, sitz baths, shower baths, and plunges. The boy remained as dismal as a hearse. She began toassist the water with a slim oatmeal diet and blister-plasters. Shecalculated his capacity as she would a jug's, and filled him up everyday with quack cure-alls. 

Tom had become indifferent to persecution by this time. This phasefilled the old lady's heart with consternation. This indifference mustbe broken up at any cost. Now she heard of Pain-killer for the firsttime. She ordered a lot at once. She tasted it and was filled withgratitude. It was simply fire in a liquid form. She dropped the watertreatment and everything else, and pinned her faith to Pain-killer. Shegave Tom a teaspoonful and watched with the deepest anxiety for theresult. Her troubles were instantly at rest, her soul at peace again;for the "indifference" was broken up. The boy could not have shown awilder, heartier interest, if she had built a fire under him. 

Tom felt that it was time to wake up; this sort of life might beromantic enough, in his blighted condition, but it was getting to havetoo little sentiment and too much distracting variety about it. So hethought over various plans for relief, and finally hit pon that ofprofessing to be fond of Pain-killer. He asked for it so often that hebecame a nuisance, and his aunt ended by telling him to help himselfand quit bothering her. If it had been Sid, she would have had nomisgivings to alloy her delight; but since it was Tom, she watched thebottle clandestinely. She found that the medicine did really diminish, but it did not occur to her that the boy was mending the health of acrack in the sitting-room floor with it. 

One day Tom was in the act of dosing the crack when his aunt's yellowcat came along, purring, eying the teaspoon avariciously, and beggingfor a taste. Tom said:

"Don't ask for it unless you want it, Peter. "

But Peter signified that he did want it. 

"You better make sure. "

Peter was sure. 

"Now you've asked for it, and I'll give it to you, because there ain'tanything mean about me; but if you find you don't like it, you mustn'tblame anybody but your own self. "

Peter was agreeable. So Tom pried his mouth open and poured down thePain-killer. Peter sprang a couple of yards in the air, and thendelivered a war-whoop and set off round and round the room, bangingagainst furniture, upsetting flower-pots, and making general havoc. Next he rose on his hind feet and pranced around, in a frenzy ofenjoyment, with his head over his shoulder and his voice proclaiminghis unappeasable happiness. Then he went tearing around the house againspreading chaos and destruction in his path. Aunt Polly entered in timeto see him throw a few double summersets, deliver a final mightyhurrah, and sail through the open window, carrying the rest of theflower-pots with him. The old lady stood petrified with astonishment, peering over her glasses; Tom lay on the floor expiring with laughter. 

"Tom, what on earth ails that cat?"

"I don't know, aunt, " gasped the boy. 

"Why, I never see anything like it. What did make him act so?"

"Deed I don't know, Aunt Polly; cats always act so when they're havinga good time. "

"They do, do they?" There was something in the tone that made Tomapprehensive. 

"Yes'm. That is, I believe they do. "

"You DO?"

"Yes'm. "

The old lady was bending down, Tom watching, with interest emphasizedby anxiety. Too late he divined her "drift. " The handle of the telltaleteaspoon was visible under the bed-valance. Aunt Polly took it, held itup. Tom winced, and dropped his eyes. Aunt Polly raised him by theusual handle--his ear--and cracked his head soundly with her thimble. 

"Now, sir, what did you want to treat that poor dumb beast so, for?"

"I done it out of pity for him--because he hadn't any aunt. "

"Hadn't any aunt!--you numskull. What has that got to do with it?"

"Heaps. Because if he'd had one she'd a burnt him out herself! She'd aroasted his bowels out of him 'thout any more feeling than if he was ahuman!"

Aunt Polly felt a sudden pang of remorse. This was putting the thingin a new light; what was cruelty to a cat MIGHT be cruelty to a boy, too. She began to soften; she felt sorry. Her eyes watered a little, and she put her hand on Tom's head and said gently:

"I was meaning for the best, Tom. And, Tom, it DID do you good. "

Tom looked up in her face with just a perceptible twinkle peepingthrough his gravity. 

"I know you was meaning for the best, aunty, and so was I with Peter. It done HIM good, too. I never see him get around so since--"

"Oh, go 'long with you, Tom, before you aggravate me again. And youtry and see if you can't be a good boy, for once, and you needn't takeany more medicine. "

Tom reached school ahead of time. It was noticed that this strangething had been occurring every day latterly. And now, as usual of late, he hung about the gate of the schoolyard instead of playing with hiscomrades. He was sick, he said, and he looked it. He tried to seem tobe looking everywhere but whither he really was looking--down the road. Presently Jeff Thatcher hove in sight, and Tom's face lighted; he gazeda moment, and then turned sorrowfully away. When Jeff arrived, Tomaccosted him; and "led up" warily to opportunities for remark aboutBecky, but the giddy lad never could see the bait. Tom watched andwatched, hoping whenever a frisking frock came in sight, and hating theowner of it as soon as he saw she was not the right one. At last frocksceased to appear, and he dropped hopelessly into the dumps; he enteredthe empty schoolhouse and sat down to suffer. Then one more frockpassed in at the gate, and Tom's heart gave a great bound. The nextinstant he was out, and "going on" like an Indian; yelling, laughing, chasing boys, jumping over the fence at risk of life and limb, throwinghandsprings, standing on his head--doing all the heroic things he couldconceive of, and keeping a furtive eye out, all the while, to see ifBecky Thatcher was noticing. But she seemed to be unconscious of itall; she never looked. Could it be possible that she was not aware thathe was there? He carried his exploits to her immediate vicinity; camewar-whooping around, snatched a boy's cap, hurled it to the roof of theschoolhouse, broke through a group of boys, tumbling them in everydirection, and fell sprawling, himself, under Becky's nose, almostupsetting her--and she turned, with her nose in the air, and he heardher say: "Mf! some people think they're mighty smart--always showingoff!"

Tom's cheeks burned. He gathered himself up and sneaked off, crushedand crestfallen. 

CHAPTER XIII

TOM'S mind was made up now. He was gloomy and desperate. He was aforsaken, friendless boy, he said; nobody loved him; when they foundout what they had driven him to, perhaps they would be sorry; he hadtried to do right and get along, but they would not let him; sincenothing would do them but to be rid of him, let it be so; and let themblame HIM for the consequences--why shouldn't they? What right had thefriendless to complain? Yes, they had forced him to it at last: hewould lead a life of crime. There was no choice. 

By this time he was far down Meadow Lane, and the bell for school to"take up" tinkled faintly upon his ear. He sobbed, now, to think heshould never, never hear that old familiar sound any more--it was veryhard, but it was forced on him; since he was driven out into the coldworld, he must submit--but he forgave them. Then the sobs came thickand fast. 

Just at this point he met his soul's sworn comrade, Joe Harper--hard-eyed, and with evidently a great and dismal purpose in his heart. Plainly here were "two souls with but a single thought. " Tom, wipinghis eyes with his sleeve, began to blubber out something about aresolution to escape from hard usage and lack of sympathy at home byroaming abroad into the great world never to return; and ended byhoping that Joe would not forget him. 

But it transpired that this was a request which Joe had just beengoing to make of Tom, and had come to hunt him up for that purpose. Hismother had whipped him for drinking some cream which he had nevertasted and knew nothing about; it was plain that she was tired of himand wished him to go; if she felt that way, there was nothing for himto do but succumb; he hoped she would be happy, and never regret havingdriven her poor boy out into the unfeeling world to suffer and die. 

As the two boys walked sorrowing along, they made a new compact tostand by each other and be brothers and never separate till deathrelieved them of their troubles. Then they began to lay their plans. Joe was for being a hermit, and living on crusts in a remote cave, anddying, some time, of cold and want and grief; but after listening toTom, he conceded that there were some conspicuous advantages about alife of crime, and so he consented to be a pirate. 

Three miles below St. Petersburg, at a point where the MississippiRiver was a trifle over a mile wide, there was a long, narrow, woodedisland, with a shallow bar at the head of it, and this offered well asa rendezvous. It was not inhabited; it lay far over toward the furthershore, abreast a dense and almost wholly unpeopled forest. So Jackson'sIsland was chosen. Who were to be the subjects of their piracies was amatter that did not occur to them. Then they hunted up HuckleberryFinn, and he joined them promptly, for all careers were one to him; hewas indifferent. They presently separated to meet at a lonely spot onthe river-bank two miles above the village at the favorite hour--whichwas midnight. There was a small log raft there which they meant tocapture. Each would bring hooks and lines, and such provision as hecould steal in the most dark and mysterious way--as became outlaws. Andbefore the afternoon was done, they had all managed to enjoy the sweetglory of spreading the fact that pretty soon the town would "hearsomething. " All who got this vague hint were cautioned to "be mum andwait. "

About midnight Tom arrived with a boiled ham and a few trifles, and stopped in a dense undergrowth on a small bluff overlooking themeeting-place. It was starlight, and very still. The mighty river laylike an ocean at rest. Tom listened a moment, but no sound disturbed thequiet. Then he gave a low, distinct whistle. It was answered from underthe bluff. Tom whistled twice more; these signals were answered in thesame way. Then a guarded voice said:

"Who goes there?"

"Tom Sawyer, the Black Avenger of the Spanish Main. Name your names. "

"Huck Finn the Red-Handed, and Joe Harper the Terror of the Seas. " Tomhad furnished these titles, from his favorite literature. 

"'Tis well. Give the countersign. "

Two hoarse whispers delivered the same awful word simultaneously tothe brooding night:

"BLOOD!"

Then Tom tumbled his ham over the bluff and let himself down after it, tearing both skin and clothes to some extent in the effort. There wasan easy, comfortable path along the shore under the bluff, but itlacked the advantages of difficulty and danger so valued by a pirate. 

The Terror of the Seas had brought a side of bacon, and had about wornhimself out with getting it there. Finn the Red-Handed had stolen askillet and a quantity of half-cured leaf tobacco, and had also broughta few corn-cobs to make pipes with. But none of the pirates smoked or"chewed" but himself. The Black Avenger of the Spanish Main said itwould never do to start without some fire. That was a wise thought;matches were hardly known there in that day. They saw a firesmouldering upon a great raft a hundred yards above, and they wentstealthily thither and helped themselves to a chunk. They made animposing adventure of it, saying, "Hist!" every now and then, andsuddenly halting with finger on lip; moving with hands on imaginarydagger-hilts; and giving orders in dismal whispers that if "the foe"stirred, to "let him have it to the hilt, " because "dead men tell notales. " They knew well enough that the raftsmen were all down at thevillage laying in stores or having a spree, but still that was noexcuse for their conducting this thing in an unpiratical way. 

They shoved off, presently, Tom in command, Huck at the after oar andJoe at the forward. Tom stood amidships, gloomy-browed, and with foldedarms, and gave his orders in a low, stern whisper:

"Luff, and bring her to the wind!"

"Aye-aye, sir!"

"Steady, steady-y-y-y!"

"Steady it is, sir!"

"Let her go off a point!"

"Point it is, sir!"

As the boys steadily and monotonously drove the raft toward mid-streamit was no doubt understood that these orders were given only for"style, " and were not intended to mean anything in particular. 

"What sail's she carrying?"

"Courses, tops'ls, and flying-jib, sir. "

"Send the r'yals up! Lay out aloft, there, half a dozen of ye--foretopmaststuns'l! Lively, now!"

"Aye-aye, sir!"

"Shake out that maintogalans'l! Sheets and braces! NOW my hearties!"

"Aye-aye, sir!"

"Hellum-a-lee--hard a port! Stand by to meet her when she comes! Port, port! NOW, men! With a will! Stead-y-y-y!"

"Steady it is, sir!"

The raft drew beyond the middle of the river; the boys pointed herhead right, and then lay on their oars. The river was not high, sothere was not more than a two or three mile current. Hardly a word wassaid during the next three-quarters of an hour. Now the raft waspassing before the distant town. Two or three glimmering lights showedwhere it lay, peacefully sleeping, beyond the vague vast sweep ofstar-gemmed water, unconscious of the tremendous event that was happening. The Black Avenger stood still with folded arms, "looking his last" uponthe scene of his former joys and his later sufferings, and wishing"she" could see him now, abroad on the wild sea, facing peril and deathwith dauntless heart, going to his doom with a grim smile on his lips. It was but a small strain on his imagination to remove Jackson's Islandbeyond eyeshot of the village, and so he "looked his last" with abroken and satisfied heart. The other pirates were looking their last, too; and they all looked so long that they came near letting thecurrent drift them out of the range of the island. But they discoveredthe danger in time, and made shift to avert it. About two o'clock inthe morning the raft grounded on the bar two hundred yards above thehead of the island, and they waded back and forth until they had landedtheir freight. Part of the little raft's belongings consisted of an oldsail, and this they spread over a nook in the bushes for a tent toshelter their provisions; but they themselves would sleep in the openair in good weather, as became outlaws. 

They built a fire against the side of a great log twenty or thirtysteps within the sombre depths of the forest, and then cooked somebacon in the frying-pan for supper, and used up half of the corn "pone"stock they had brought. It seemed glorious sport to be feasting in thatwild, free way in the virgin forest of an unexplored and uninhabitedisland, far from the haunts of men, and they said they never wouldreturn to civilization. The climbing fire lit up their faces and threwits ruddy glare upon the pillared tree-trunks of their forest temple, and upon the varnished foliage and festooning vines. 

When the last crisp slice of bacon was gone, and the last allowance ofcorn pone devoured, the boys stretched themselves out on the grass, filled with contentment. They could have found a cooler place, but theywould not deny themselves such a romantic feature as the roastingcamp-fire. 

"AIN'T it gay?" said Joe. 

"It's NUTS!" said Tom. "What would the boys say if they could see us?"

"Say? Well, they'd just die to be here--hey, Hucky!"

"I reckon so, " said Huckleberry; "anyways, I'm suited. I don't wantnothing better'n this. I don't ever get enough to eat, gen'ally--andhere they can't come and pick at a feller and bullyrag him so. "

"It's just the life for me, " said Tom. "You don't have to get up, mornings, and you don't have to go to school, and wash, and all thatblame foolishness. You see a pirate don't have to do ANYTHING, Joe, when he's ashore, but a hermit HE has to be praying considerable, andthen he don't have any fun, anyway, all by himself that way. "

"Oh yes, that's so, " said Joe, "but I hadn't thought much about it, you know. I'd a good deal rather be a pirate, now that I've tried it. "

"You see, " said Tom, "people don't go much on hermits, nowadays, likethey used to in old times, but a pirate's always respected. And ahermit's got to sleep on the hardest place he can find, and putsackcloth and ashes on his head, and stand out in the rain, and--"

"What does he put sackcloth and ashes on his head for?" inquired Huck. 

"I dono. But they've GOT to do it. Hermits always do. You'd have to dothat if you was a hermit. "

"Dern'd if I would, " said Huck. 

"Well, what would you do?"

"I dono. But I wouldn't do that. "

"Why, Huck, you'd HAVE to. How'd you get around it?"

"Why, I just wouldn't stand it. I'd run away. "

"Run away! Well, you WOULD be a nice old slouch of a hermit. You'd bea disgrace. "

The Red-Handed made no response, being better employed. He hadfinished gouging out a cob, and now he fitted a weed stem to it, loadedit with tobacco, and was pressing a coal to the charge and blowing acloud of fragrant smoke--he was in the full bloom of luxuriouscontentment. The other pirates envied him this majestic vice, andsecretly resolved to acquire it shortly. Presently Huck said:

"What does pirates have to do?"

Tom said:

"Oh, they have just a bully time--take ships and burn them, and getthe money and bury it in awful places in their island where there'sghosts and things to watch it, and kill everybody in the ships--make'em walk a plank. "

"And they carry the women to the island, " said Joe; "they don't killthe women. "

"No, " assented Tom, "they don't kill the women--they're too noble. Andthe women's always beautiful, too. 

"And don't they wear the bulliest clothes! Oh no! All gold and silverand di'monds, " said Joe, with enthusiasm. 

"Who?" said Huck. 

"Why, the pirates. "

Huck scanned his own clothing forlornly. 

"I reckon I ain't dressed fitten for a pirate, " said he, with aregretful pathos in his voice; "but I ain't got none but these. "

But the other boys told him the fine clothes would come fast enough, after they should have begun their adventures. They made him understandthat his poor rags would do to begin with, though it was customary forwealthy pirates to start with a proper wardrobe. 

Gradually their talk died out and drowsiness began to steal upon theeyelids of the little waifs. The pipe dropped from the fingers of theRed-Handed, and he slept the sleep of the conscience-free and theweary. The Terror of the Seas and the Black Avenger of the Spanish Mainhad more difficulty in getting to sleep. They said their prayersinwardly, and lying down, since there was nobody there with authorityto make them kneel and recite aloud; in truth, they had a mind not tosay them at all, but they were afraid to proceed to such lengths asthat, lest they might call down a sudden and special thunderbolt fromheaven. Then at once they reached and hovered upon the imminent vergeof sleep--but an intruder came, now, that would not "down. " It wasconscience. They began to feel a vague fear that they had been doingwrong to run away; and next they thought of the stolen meat, and thenthe real torture came. They tried to argue it away by remindingconscience that they had purloined sweetmeats and apples scores oftimes; but conscience was not to be appeased by such thinplausibilities; it seemed to them, in the end, that there was nogetting around the stubborn fact that taking sweetmeats was only"hooking, " while taking bacon and hams and such valuables was plainsimple stealing--and there was a command against that in the Bible. Sothey inwardly resolved that so long as they remained in the business, their piracies should not again be sullied with the crime of stealing. Then conscience granted a truce, and these curiously inconsistentpirates fell peacefully to sleep. 

CHAPTER XIV

WHEN Tom awoke in the morning, he wondered where he was. He sat up andrubbed his eyes and looked around. Then he comprehended. It was thecool gray dawn, and there was a delicious sense of repose and peace inthe deep pervading calm and silence of the woods. Not a leaf stirred;not a sound obtruded upon great Nature's meditation. Beaded dewdropsstood upon the leaves and grasses. A white layer of ashes covered thefire, and a thin blue breath of smoke rose straight into the air. Joeand Huck still slept. 

Now, far away in the woods a bird called; another answered; presentlythe hammering of a woodpecker was heard. Gradually the cool dim gray ofthe morning whitened, and as gradually sounds multiplied and lifemanifested itself. The marvel of Nature shaking off sleep and going towork unfolded itself to the musing boy. A little green worm camecrawling over a dewy leaf, lifting two-thirds of his body into the airfrom time to time and "sniffing around, " then proceeding again--for hewas measuring, Tom said; and when the worm approached him, of its ownaccord, he sat as still as a stone, with his hopes rising and falling, by turns, as the creature still came toward him or seemed inclined togo elsewhere; and when at last it considered a painful moment with itscurved body in the air and then came decisively down upon Tom's leg andbegan a journey over him, his whole heart was glad--for that meant thathe was going to have a new suit of clothes--without the shadow of adoubt a gaudy piratical uniform. Now a procession of ants appeared, from nowhere in particular, and went about their labors; one struggledmanfully by with a dead spider five times as big as itself in its arms, and lugged it straight up a tree-trunk. A brown spotted lady-bugclimbed the dizzy height of a grass blade, and Tom bent down close toit and said, "Lady-bug, lady-bug, fly away home, your house is on fire, your children's alone, " and she took wing and went off to see about it--which did not surprise the boy, for he knew of old that this insect wascredulous about conflagrations, and he had practised upon itssimplicity more than once. A tumblebug came next, heaving sturdily atits ball, and Tom touched the creature, to see it shut its legs againstits body and pretend to be dead. The birds were fairly rioting by thistime. A catbird, the Northern mocker, lit in a tree over Tom's head, and trilled out her imitations of her neighbors in a rapture ofenjoyment; then a shrill jay swept down, a flash of blue flame, andstopped on a twig almost within the boy's reach, cocked his head to oneside and eyed the strangers with a consuming curiosity; a gray squirreland a big fellow of the "fox" kind came skurrying along, sitting up atintervals to inspect and chatter at the boys, for the wild things hadprobably never seen a human being before and scarcely knew whether tobe afraid or not. All Nature was wide awake and stirring, now; longlances of sunlight pierced down through the dense foliage far and near, and a few butterflies came fluttering upon the scene. 

Tom stirred up the other pirates and they all clattered away with ashout, and in a minute or two were stripped and chasing after andtumbling over each other in the shallow limpid water of the whitesandbar. They felt no longing for the little village sleeping in thedistance beyond the majestic waste of water. A vagrant current or aslight rise in the river had carried off their raft, but this onlygratified them, since its going was something like burning the bridgebetween them and civilization. 

They came back to camp wonderfully refreshed, glad-hearted, andravenous; and they soon had the camp-fire blazing up again. Huck founda spring of clear cold water close by, and the boys made cups of broadoak or hickory leaves, and felt that water, sweetened with such awildwood charm as that, would be a good enough substitute for coffee. While Joe was slicing bacon for breakfast, Tom and Huck asked him tohold on a minute; they stepped to a promising nook in the river-bankand threw in their lines; almost immediately they had reward. Joe hadnot had time to get impatient before they were back again with somehandsome bass, a couple of sun-perch and a small catfish--provisionsenough for quite a family. They fried the fish with the bacon, and wereastonished; for no fish had ever seemed so delicious before. They didnot know that the quicker a fresh-water fish is on the fire after he iscaught the better he is; and they reflected little upon what a sauceopen-air sleeping, open-air exercise, bathing, and a large ingredientof hunger make, too. 

They lay around in the shade, after breakfast, while Huck had a smoke, and then went off through the woods on an exploring expedition. Theytramped gayly along, over decaying logs, through tangled underbrush, among solemn monarchs of the forest, hung from their crowns to theground with a drooping regalia of grape-vines. Now and then they cameupon snug nooks carpeted with grass and jeweled with flowers. 

They found plenty of things to be delighted with, but nothing to beastonished at. They discovered that the island was about three mileslong and a quarter of a mile wide, and that the shore it lay closest towas only separated from it by a narrow channel hardly two hundred yardswide. They took a swim about every hour, so it was close upon themiddle of the afternoon when they got back to camp. They were toohungry to stop to fish, but they fared sumptuously upon cold ham, andthen threw themselves down in the shade to talk. But the talk soonbegan to drag, and then died. The stillness, the solemnity that broodedin the woods, and the sense of loneliness, began to tell upon thespirits of the boys. They fell to thinking. A sort of undefined longingcrept upon them. This took dim shape, presently--it was buddinghomesickness. Even Finn the Red-Handed was dreaming of his doorstepsand empty hogsheads. But they were all ashamed of their weakness, andnone was brave enough to speak his thought. 

For some time, now, the boys had been dully conscious of a peculiarsound in the distance, just as one sometimes is of the ticking of aclock which he takes no distinct note of. But now this mysterious soundbecame more pronounced, and forced a recognition. The boys started, glanced at each other, and then each assumed a listening attitude. There was a long silence, profound and unbroken; then a deep, sullenboom came floating down out of the distance. 

"What is it!" exclaimed Joe, under his breath. 

"I wonder, " said Tom in a whisper. 

"'Tain't thunder, " said Huckleberry, in an awed tone, "becuz thunder--"

"Hark!" said Tom. "Listen--don't talk. "

They waited a time that seemed an age, and then the same muffled boomtroubled the solemn hush. 

"Let's go and see. "

They sprang to their feet and hurried to the shore toward the town. They parted the bushes on the bank and peered out over the water. Thelittle steam ferryboat was about a mile below the village, driftingwith the current. Her broad deck seemed crowded with people. There werea great many skiffs rowing about or floating with the stream in theneighborhood of the ferryboat, but the boys could not determine whatthe men in them were doing. Presently a great jet of white smoke burstfrom the ferryboat's side, and as it expanded and rose in a lazy cloud, that same dull throb of sound was borne to the listeners again. 

"I know now!" exclaimed Tom; "somebody's drownded!"

"That's it!" said Huck; "they done that last summer, when Bill Turnergot drownded; they shoot a cannon over the water, and that makes himcome up to the top. Yes, and they take loaves of bread and putquicksilver in 'em and set 'em afloat, and wherever there's anybodythat's drownded, they'll float right there and stop. "

"Yes, I've heard about that, " said Joe. "I wonder what makes the breaddo that. "

"Oh, it ain't the bread, so much, " said Tom; "I reckon it's mostlywhat they SAY over it before they start it out. "

"But they don't say anything over it, " said Huck. "I've seen 'em andthey don't. "

"Well, that's funny, " said Tom. "But maybe they say it to themselves. Of COURSE they do. Anybody might know that. "

The other boys agreed that there was reason in what Tom said, becausean ignorant lump of bread, uninstructed by an incantation, could not beexpected to act very intelligently when set upon an errand of suchgravity. 

"By jings, I wish I was over there, now, " said Joe. 

"I do too" said Huck "I'd give heaps to know who it is. "

The boys still listened and watched. Presently a revealing thoughtflashed through Tom's mind, and he exclaimed:

"Boys, I know who's drownded--it's us!"

They felt like heroes in an instant. Here was a gorgeous triumph; theywere missed; they were mourned; hearts were breaking on their account;tears were being shed; accusing memories of unkindness to these poorlost lads were rising up, and unavailing regrets and remorse were beingindulged; and best of all, the departed were the talk of the wholetown, and the envy of all the boys, as far as this dazzling notorietywas concerned. This was fine. It was worth while to be a pirate, afterall. 

As twilight drew on, the ferryboat went back to her accustomedbusiness and the skiffs disappeared. The pirates returned to camp. Theywere jubilant with vanity over their new grandeur and the illustrioustrouble they were making. They caught fish, cooked supper and ate it, and then fell to guessing at what the village was thinking and sayingabout them; and the pictures they drew of the public distress on theiraccount were gratifying to look upon--from their point of view. Butwhen the shadows of night closed them in, they gradually ceased totalk, and sat gazing into the fire, with their minds evidentlywandering elsewhere. The excitement was gone, now, and Tom and Joecould not keep back thoughts of certain persons at home who were notenjoying this fine frolic as much as they were. Misgivings came; theygrew troubled and unhappy; a sigh or two escaped, unawares. By and byJoe timidly ventured upon a roundabout "feeler" as to how the othersmight look upon a return to civilization--not right now, but--

Tom withered him with derision! Huck, being uncommitted as yet, joinedin with Tom, and the waverer quickly "explained, " and was glad to getout of the scrape with as little taint of chicken-hearted homesicknessclinging to his garments as he could. Mutiny was effectually laid torest for the moment. 

As the night deepened, Huck began to nod, and presently to snore. Joefollowed next. Tom lay upon his elbow motionless, for some time, watching the two intently. At last he got up cautiously, on his knees, and went searching among the grass and the flickering reflections flungby the camp-fire. He picked up and inspected several largesemi-cylinders of the thin white bark of a sycamore, and finally chosetwo which seemed to suit him. Then he knelt by the fire and painfullywrote something upon each of these with his "red keel"; one he rolled upand put in his jacket pocket, and the other he put in Joe's hat andremoved it to a little distance from the owner. And he also put into thehat certain schoolboy treasures of almost inestimable value--among thema lump of chalk, an India-rubber ball, three fishhooks, and one of thatkind of marbles known as a "sure 'nough crystal. " Then he tiptoed hisway cautiously among the trees till he felt that he was out of hearing, and straightway broke into a keen run in the direction of the sandbar. 

CHAPTER XV

A FEW minutes later Tom was in the shoal water of the bar, wadingtoward the Illinois shore. Before the depth reached his middle he washalf-way over; the current would permit no more wading, now, so hestruck out confidently to swim the remaining hundred yards. He swamquartering upstream, but still was swept downward rather faster than hehad expected. However, he reached the shore finally, and drifted alongtill he found a low place and drew himself out. He put his hand on hisjacket pocket, found his piece of bark safe, and then struck throughthe woods, following the shore, with streaming garments. Shortly beforeten o'clock he came out into an open place opposite the village, andsaw the ferryboat lying in the shadow of the trees and the high bank. Everything was quiet under the blinking stars. He crept down the bank, watching with all his eyes, slipped into the water, swam three or fourstrokes and climbed into the skiff that did "yawl" duty at the boat'sstern. He laid himself down under the thwarts and waited, panting. 

Presently the cracked bell tapped and a voice gave the order to "castoff. " A minute or two later the skiff's head was standing high up, against the boat's swell, and the voyage was begun. Tom felt happy inhis success, for he knew it was the boat's last trip for the night. Atthe end of a long twelve or fifteen minutes the wheels stopped, and Tomslipped overboard and swam ashore in the dusk, landing fifty yardsdownstream, out of danger of possible stragglers. 

He flew along unfrequented alleys, and shortly found himself at hisaunt's back fence. He climbed over, approached the "ell, " and looked inat the sitting-room window, for a light was burning there. There satAunt Polly, Sid, Mary, and Joe Harper's mother, grouped together, talking. They were by the bed, and the bed was between them and thedoor. Tom went to the door and began to softly lift the latch; then hepressed gently and the door yielded a crack; he continued pushingcautiously, and quaking every time it creaked, till he judged he mightsqueeze through on his knees; so he put his head through and began, warily. 

"What makes the candle blow so?" said Aunt Polly. Tom hurried up. "Why, that door's open, I believe. Why, of course it is. No end ofstrange things now. Go 'long and shut it, Sid. "

Tom disappeared under the bed just in time. He lay and "breathed"himself for a time, and then crept to where he could almost touch hisaunt's foot. 

"But as I was saying, " said Aunt Polly, "he warn't BAD, so to say--only mischEEvous. Only just giddy, and harum-scarum, you know. Hewarn't any more responsible than a colt. HE never meant any harm, andhe was the best-hearted boy that ever was"--and she began to cry. 

"It was just so with my Joe--always full of his devilment, and up toevery kind of mischief, but he was just as unselfish and kind as hecould be--and laws bless me, to think I went and whipped him for takingthat cream, never once recollecting that I throwed it out myselfbecause it was sour, and I never to see him again in this world, never, never, never, poor abused boy!" And Mrs. Harper sobbed as if her heartwould break. 

"I hope Tom's better off where he is, " said Sid, "but if he'd beenbetter in some ways--"

"SID!" Tom felt the glare of the old lady's eye, though he could notsee it. "Not a word against my Tom, now that he's gone! God'll takecare of HIM--never you trouble YOURself, sir! Oh, Mrs. Harper, I don'tknow how to give him up! I don't know how to give him up! He was such acomfort to me, although he tormented my old heart out of me, 'most. "

"The Lord giveth and the Lord hath taken away--Blessed be the name ofthe Lord! But it's so hard--Oh, it's so hard! Only last Saturday myJoe busted a firecracker right under my nose and I knocked himsprawling. Little did I know then, how soon--Oh, if it was to do overagain I'd hug him and bless him for it. "

"Yes, yes, yes, I know just how you feel, Mrs. Harper, I know justexactly how you feel. No longer ago than yesterday noon, my Tom tookand filled the cat full of Pain-killer, and I did think the creturwould tear the house down. And God forgive me, I cracked Tom's headwith my thimble, poor boy, poor dead boy. But he's out of all histroubles now. And the last words I ever heard him say was to reproach--"

But this memory was too much for the old lady, and she broke entirelydown. Tom was snuffling, now, himself--and more in pity of himself thananybody else. He could hear Mary crying, and putting in a kindly wordfor him from time to time. He began to have a nobler opinion of himselfthan ever before. Still, he was sufficiently touched by his aunt'sgrief to long to rush out from under the bed and overwhelm her withjoy--and the theatrical gorgeousness of the thing appealed strongly tohis nature, too, but he resisted and lay still. 

He went on listening, and gathered by odds and ends that it wasconjectured at first that the boys had got drowned while taking a swim;then the small raft had been missed; next, certain boys said themissing lads had promised that the village should "hear something"soon; the wise-heads had "put this and that together" and decided thatthe lads had gone off on that raft and would turn up at the next townbelow, presently; but toward noon the raft had been found, lodgedagainst the Missouri shore some five or six miles below the village--and then hope perished; they must be drowned, else hunger would havedriven them home by nightfall if not sooner. It was believed that thesearch for the bodies had been a fruitless effort merely because thedrowning must have occurred in mid-channel, since the boys, being goodswimmers, would otherwise have escaped to shore. This was Wednesdaynight. If the bodies continued missing until Sunday, all hope would begiven over, and the funerals would be preached on that morning. Tomshuddered. 

Mrs. Harper gave a sobbing good-night and turned to go. Then with amutual impulse the two bereaved women flung themselves into eachother's arms and had a good, consoling cry, and then parted. Aunt Pollywas tender far beyond her wont, in her good-night to Sid and Mary. Sidsnuffled a bit and Mary went off crying with all her heart. 

Aunt Polly knelt down and prayed for Tom so touchingly, soappealingly, and with such measureless love in her words and her oldtrembling voice, that he was weltering in tears again, long before shewas through. 

He had to keep still long after she went to bed, for she kept makingbroken-hearted ejaculations from time to time, tossing unrestfully, andturning over. But at last she was still, only moaning a little in hersleep. Now the boy stole out, rose gradually by the bedside, shaded thecandle-light with his hand, and stood regarding her. His heart was fullof pity for her. He took out his sycamore scroll and placed it by thecandle. But something occurred to him, and he lingered considering. Hisface lighted with a happy solution of his thought; he put the barkhastily in his pocket. Then he bent over and kissed the faded lips, andstraightway made his stealthy exit, latching the door behind him. 

He threaded his way back to the ferry landing, found nobody at largethere, and walked boldly on board the boat, for he knew she wastenantless except that there was a watchman, who always turned in andslept like a graven image. He untied the skiff at the stern, slippedinto it, and was soon rowing cautiously upstream. When he had pulled amile above the village, he started quartering across and bent himselfstoutly to his work. He hit the landing on the other side neatly, forthis was a familiar bit of work to him. He was moved to capture theskiff, arguing that it might be considered a ship and thereforelegitimate prey for a pirate, but he knew a thorough search would bemade for it and that might end in revelations. So he stepped ashore andentered the woods. 

He sat down and took a long rest, torturing himself meanwhile to keepawake, and then started warily down the home-stretch. The night was farspent. It was broad daylight before he found himself fairly abreast theisland bar. He rested again until the sun was well up and gilding thegreat river with its splendor, and then he plunged into the stream. Alittle later he paused, dripping, upon the threshold of the camp, andheard Joe say:

"No, Tom's true-blue, Huck, and he'll come back. He won't desert. Heknows that would be a disgrace to a pirate, and Tom's too proud forthat sort of thing. He's up to something or other. Now I wonder what?"

"Well, the things is ours, anyway, ain't they?"

"Pretty near, but not yet, Huck. The writing says they are if he ain'tback here to breakfast. "

"Which he is!" exclaimed Tom, with fine dramatic effect, steppinggrandly into camp. 

A sumptuous breakfast of bacon and fish was shortly provided, and asthe boys set to work upon it, Tom recounted (and adorned) hisadventures. They were a vain and boastful company of heroes when thetale was done. Then Tom hid himself away in a shady nook to sleep tillnoon, and the other pirates got ready to fish and explore. 

CHAPTER XVI

AFTER dinner all the gang turned out to hunt for turtle eggs on thebar. They went about poking sticks into the sand, and when they found asoft place they went down on their knees and dug with their hands. Sometimes they would take fifty or sixty eggs out of one hole. Theywere perfectly round white things a trifle smaller than an Englishwalnut. They had a famous fried-egg feast that night, and another onFriday morning. 

After breakfast they went whooping and prancing out on the bar, andchased each other round and round, shedding clothes as they went, untilthey were naked, and then continued the frolic far away up the shoalwater of the bar, against the stiff current, which latter tripped theirlegs from under them from time to time and greatly increased the fun. And now and then they stooped in a group and splashed water in eachother's faces with their palms, gradually approaching each other, withaverted faces to avoid the strangling sprays, and finally gripping andstruggling till the best man ducked his neighbor, and then they allwent under in a tangle of white legs and arms and came up blowing, sputtering, laughing, and gasping for breath at one and the same time. 

When they were well exhausted, they would run out and sprawl on thedry, hot sand, and lie there and cover themselves up with it, and byand by break for the water again and go through the originalperformance once more. Finally it occurred to them that their nakedskin represented flesh-colored "tights" very fairly; so they drew aring in the sand and had a circus--with three clowns in it, for nonewould yield this proudest post to his neighbor. 

Next they got their marbles and played "knucks" and "ring-taw" and"keeps" till that amusement grew stale. Then Joe and Huck had anotherswim, but Tom would not venture, because he found that in kicking offhis trousers he had kicked his string of rattlesnake rattles off hisankle, and he wondered how he had escaped cramp so long without theprotection of this mysterious charm. He did not venture again until hehad found it, and by that time the other boys were tired and ready torest. They gradually wandered apart, dropped into the "dumps, " and fellto gazing longingly across the wide river to where the village laydrowsing in the sun. Tom found himself writing "BECKY" in the sand withhis big toe; he scratched it out, and was angry with himself for hisweakness. But he wrote it again, nevertheless; he could not help it. Heerased it once more and then took himself out of temptation by drivingthe other boys together and joining them. 

But Joe's spirits had gone down almost beyond resurrection. He was sohomesick that he could hardly endure the misery of it. The tears layvery near the surface. Huck was melancholy, too. Tom was downhearted, but tried hard not to show it. He had a secret which he was not readyto tell, yet, but if this mutinous depression was not broken up soon, he would have to bring it out. He said, with a great show ofcheerfulness:

"I bet there's been pirates on this island before, boys. We'll exploreit again. They've hid treasures here somewhere. How'd you feel to lighton a rotten chest full of gold and silver--hey?"

But it roused only faint enthusiasm, which faded out, with no reply. Tom tried one or two other seductions; but they failed, too. It wasdiscouraging work. Joe sat poking up the sand with a stick and lookingvery gloomy. Finally he said:

"Oh, boys, let's give it up. I want to go home. It's so lonesome. "

"Oh no, Joe, you'll feel better by and by, " said Tom. "Just think ofthe fishing that's here. "

"I don't care for fishing. I want to go home. "

"But, Joe, there ain't such another swimming-place anywhere. "

"Swimming's no good. I don't seem to care for it, somehow, when thereain't anybody to say I sha'n't go in. I mean to go home. "

"Oh, shucks! Baby! You want to see your mother, I reckon. "

"Yes, I DO want to see my mother--and you would, too, if you had one. I ain't any more baby than you are. " And Joe snuffled a little. 

"Well, we'll let the cry-baby go home to his mother, won't we, Huck?Poor thing--does it want to see its mother? And so it shall. You likeit here, don't you, Huck? We'll stay, won't we?"

Huck said, "Y-e-s"--without any heart in it. 

"I'll never speak to you again as long as I live, " said Joe, rising. "There now!" And he moved moodily away and began to dress himself. 

"Who cares!" said Tom. "Nobody wants you to. Go 'long home and getlaughed at. Oh, you're a nice pirate. Huck and me ain't cry-babies. We'll stay, won't we, Huck? Let him go if he wants to. I reckon we canget along without him, per'aps. "

But Tom was uneasy, nevertheless, and was alarmed to see Joe gosullenly on with his dressing. And then it was discomforting to seeHuck eying Joe's preparations so wistfully, and keeping up such anominous silence. Presently, without a parting word, Joe began to wadeoff toward the Illinois shore. Tom's heart began to sink. He glanced atHuck. Huck could not bear the look, and dropped his eyes. Then he said:

"I want to go, too, Tom. It was getting so lonesome anyway, and nowit'll be worse. Let's us go, too, Tom. "

"I won't! You can all go, if you want to. I mean to stay. "

"Tom, I better go. "

"Well, go 'long--who's hendering you. "

Huck began to pick up his scattered clothes. He said:

"Tom, I wisht you'd come, too. Now you think it over. We'll wait foryou when we get to shore. "

"Well, you'll wait a blame long time, that's all. "

Huck started sorrowfully away, and Tom stood looking after him, with astrong desire tugging at his heart to yield his pride and go along too. He hoped the boys would stop, but they still waded slowly on. Itsuddenly dawned on Tom that it was become very lonely and still. Hemade one final struggle with his pride, and then darted after hiscomrades, yelling:

"Wait! Wait! I want to tell you something!"

They presently stopped and turned around. When he got to where theywere, he began unfolding his secret, and they listened moodily till atlast they saw the "point" he was driving at, and then they set up awar-whoop of applause and said it was "splendid!" and said if he hadtold them at first, they wouldn't have started away. He made a plausibleexcuse; but his real reason had been the fear that not even the secretwould keep them with him any very great length of time, and so he hadmeant to hold it in reserve as a last seduction. 

The lads came gayly back and went at their sports again with a will, chattering all the time about Tom's stupendous plan and admiring thegenius of it. After a dainty egg and fish dinner, Tom said he wanted tolearn to smoke, now. Joe caught at the idea and said he would like totry, too. So Huck made pipes and filled them. These novices had neversmoked anything before but cigars made of grape-vine, and they "bit"the tongue, and were not considered manly anyway. 

Now they stretched themselves out on their elbows and began to puff, charily, and with slender confidence. The smoke had an unpleasanttaste, and they gagged a little, but Tom said:

"Why, it's just as easy! If I'd a knowed this was all, I'd a learntlong ago. "

"So would I, " said Joe. "It's just nothing. "

"Why, many a time I've looked at people smoking, and thought well Iwish I could do that; but I never thought I could, " said Tom. 

"That's just the way with me, hain't it, Huck? You've heard me talkjust that way--haven't you, Huck? I'll leave it to Huck if I haven't. "

"Yes--heaps of times, " said Huck. 

"Well, I have too, " said Tom; "oh, hundreds of times. Once down by theslaughter-house. Don't you remember, Huck? Bob Tanner was there, andJohnny Miller, and Jeff Thatcher, when I said it. Don't you remember, Huck, 'bout me saying that?"

"Yes, that's so, " said Huck. "That was the day after I lost a whitealley. No, 'twas the day before. "

"There--I told you so, " said Tom. "Huck recollects it. "

"I bleeve I could smoke this pipe all day, " said Joe. "I don't feelsick. "

"Neither do I, " said Tom. "I could smoke it all day. But I bet youJeff Thatcher couldn't. "

"Jeff Thatcher! Why, he'd keel over just with two draws. Just let himtry it once. HE'D see!"

"I bet he would. And Johnny Miller--I wish could see Johnny Millertackle it once. "

"Oh, don't I!" said Joe. "Why, I bet you Johnny Miller couldn't anymore do this than nothing. Just one little snifter would fetch HIM. "

"'Deed it would, Joe. Say--I wish the boys could see us now. "

"So do I. "

"Say--boys, don't say anything about it, and some time when they'rearound, I'll come up to you and say, 'Joe, got a pipe? I want a smoke. 'And you'll say, kind of careless like, as if it warn't anything, you'llsay, 'Yes, I got my OLD pipe, and another one, but my tobacker ain'tvery good. ' And I'll say, 'Oh, that's all right, if it's STRONGenough. ' And then you'll out with the pipes, and we'll light up just asca'm, and then just see 'em look!"

"By jings, that'll be gay, Tom! I wish it was NOW!"

"So do I! And when we tell 'em we learned when we was off pirating, won't they wish they'd been along?"

"Oh, I reckon not! I'll just BET they will!"

So the talk ran on. But presently it began to flag a trifle, and growdisjointed. The silences widened; the expectoration marvellouslyincreased. Every pore inside the boys' cheeks became a spoutingfountain; they could scarcely bail out the cellars under their tonguesfast enough to prevent an inundation; little overflowings down theirthroats occurred in spite of all they could do, and sudden retchingsfollowed every time. Both boys were looking very pale and miserable, now. Joe's pipe dropped from his nerveless fingers. Tom's followed. Both fountains were going furiously and both pumps bailing with mightand main. Joe said feebly:

"I've lost my knife. I reckon I better go and find it. "

Tom said, with quivering lips and halting utterance:

"I'll help you. You go over that way and I'll hunt around by thespring. No, you needn't come, Huck--we can find it. "

So Huck sat down again, and waited an hour. Then he found it lonesome, and went to find his comrades. They were wide apart in the woods, bothvery pale, both fast asleep. But something informed him that if theyhad had any trouble they had got rid of it. 

They were not talkative at supper that night. They had a humble look, and when Huck prepared his pipe after the meal and was going to preparetheirs, they said no, they were not feeling very well--something theyate at dinner had disagreed with them. 

About midnight Joe awoke, and called the boys. There was a broodingoppressiveness in the air that seemed to bode something. The boyshuddled themselves together and sought the friendly companionship ofthe fire, though the dull dead heat of the breathless atmosphere wasstifling. They sat still, intent and waiting. The solemn hushcontinued. Beyond the light of the fire everything was swallowed up inthe blackness of darkness. Presently there came a quivering glow thatvaguely revealed the foliage for a moment and then vanished. By and byanother came, a little stronger. Then another. Then a faint moan camesighing through the branches of the forest and the boys felt a fleetingbreath upon their cheeks, and shuddered with the fancy that the Spiritof the Night had gone by. There was a pause. Now a weird flash turnednight into day and showed every little grass-blade, separate anddistinct, that grew about their feet. And it showed three white, startled faces, too. A deep peal of thunder went rolling and tumblingdown the heavens and lost itself in sullen rumblings in the distance. Asweep of chilly air passed by, rustling all the leaves and snowing theflaky ashes broadcast about the fire. Another fierce glare lit up theforest and an instant crash followed that seemed to rend the tree-topsright over the boys' heads. They clung together in terror, in the thickgloom that followed. A few big rain-drops fell pattering upon theleaves. 

"Quick! boys, go for the tent!" exclaimed Tom. 

They sprang away, stumbling over roots and among vines in the dark, notwo plunging in the same direction. A furious blast roared through thetrees, making everything sing as it went. One blinding flash afteranother came, and peal on peal of deafening thunder. And now adrenching rain poured down and the rising hurricane drove it in sheetsalong the ground. The boys cried out to each other, but the roaringwind and the booming thunder-blasts drowned their voices utterly. However, one by one they straggled in at last and took shelter underthe tent, cold, scared, and streaming with water; but to have companyin misery seemed something to be grateful for. They could not talk, theold sail flapped so furiously, even if the other noises would haveallowed them. The tempest rose higher and higher, and presently thesail tore loose from its fastenings and went winging away on the blast. The boys seized each others' hands and fled, with many tumblings andbruises, to the shelter of a great oak that stood upon the river-bank. Now the battle was at its highest. Under the ceaseless conflagration oflightning that flamed in the skies, everything below stood out inclean-cut and shadowless distinctness: the bending trees, the billowyriver, white with foam, the driving spray of spume-flakes, the dimoutlines of the high bluffs on the other side, glimpsed through thedrifting cloud-rack and the slanting veil of rain. Every little whilesome giant tree yielded the fight and fell crashing through the youngergrowth; and the unflagging thunder-peals came now in ear-splittingexplosive bursts, keen and sharp, and unspeakably appalling. The stormculminated in one matchless effort that seemed likely to tear the islandto pieces, burn it up, drown it to the tree-tops, blow it away, anddeafen every creature in it, all at one and the same moment. It was awild night for homeless young heads to be out in. 

But at last the battle was done, and the forces retired with weakerand weaker threatenings and grumblings, and peace resumed her sway. Theboys went back to camp, a good deal awed; but they found there wasstill something to be thankful for, because the great sycamore, theshelter of their beds, was a ruin, now, blasted by the lightnings, andthey were not under it when the catastrophe happened. 

Everything in camp was drenched, the camp-fire as well; for they werebut heedless lads, like their generation, and had made no provisionagainst rain. Here was matter for dismay, for they were soaked throughand chilled. They were eloquent in their distress; but they presentlydiscovered that the fire had eaten so far up under the great log it hadbeen built against (where it curved upward and separated itself fromthe ground), that a handbreadth or so of it had escaped wetting; sothey patiently wrought until, with shreds and bark gathered from theunder sides of sheltered logs, they coaxed the fire to burn again. Thenthey piled on great dead boughs till they had a roaring furnace, andwere glad-hearted once more. They dried their boiled ham and had afeast, and after that they sat by the fire and expanded and glorifiedtheir midnight adventure until morning, for there was not a dry spot tosleep on, anywhere around. 

As the sun began to steal in upon the boys, drowsiness came over them, and they went out on the sandbar and lay down to sleep. They gotscorched out by and by, and drearily set about getting breakfast. Afterthe meal they felt rusty, and stiff-jointed, and a little homesick oncemore. Tom saw the signs, and fell to cheering up the pirates as well ashe could. But they cared nothing for marbles, or circus, or swimming, or anything. He reminded them of the imposing secret, and raised a rayof cheer. While it lasted, he got them interested in a new device. Thiswas to knock off being pirates, for a while, and be Indians for achange. They were attracted by this idea; so it was not long beforethey were stripped, and striped from head to heel with black mud, likeso many zebras--all of them chiefs, of course--and then they wenttearing through the woods to attack an English settlement. 

By and by they separated into three hostile tribes, and darted uponeach other from ambush with dreadful war-whoops, and killed and scalpedeach other by thousands. It was a gory day. Consequently it was anextremely satisfactory one. 

They assembled in camp toward supper-time, hungry and happy; but now adifficulty arose--hostile Indians could not break the bread ofhospitality together without first making peace, and this was a simpleimpossibility without smoking a pipe of peace. There was no otherprocess that ever they had heard of. Two of the savages almost wishedthey had remained pirates. However, there was no other way; so withsuch show of cheerfulness as they could muster they called for the pipeand took their whiff as it passed, in due form. 

And behold, they were glad they had gone into savagery, for they hadgained something; they found that they could now smoke a little withouthaving to go and hunt for a lost knife; they did not get sick enough tobe seriously uncomfortable. They were not likely to fool away this highpromise for lack of effort. No, they practised cautiously, aftersupper, with right fair success, and so they spent a jubilant evening. They were prouder and happier in their new acquirement than they wouldhave been in the scalping and skinning of the Six Nations. We willleave them to smoke and chatter and brag, since we have no further usefor them at present. 

CHAPTER XVII

BUT there was no hilarity in the little town that same tranquilSaturday afternoon. The Harpers, and Aunt Polly's family, were beingput into mourning, with great grief and many tears. An unusual quietpossessed the village, although it was ordinarily quiet enough, in allconscience. The villagers conducted their concerns with an absent air, and talked little; but they sighed often. The Saturday holiday seemed aburden to the children. They had no heart in their sports, andgradually gave them up. 

In the afternoon Becky Thatcher found herself moping about thedeserted schoolhouse yard, and feeling very melancholy. But she foundnothing there to comfort her. She soliloquized:

"Oh, if I only had a brass andiron-knob again! But I haven't gotanything now to remember him by. " And she choked back a little sob. 

Presently she stopped, and said to herself:

"It was right here. Oh, if it was to do over again, I wouldn't saythat--I wouldn't say it for the whole world. But he's gone now; I'llnever, never, never see him any more. "

This thought broke her down, and she wandered away, with tears rollingdown her cheeks. Then quite a group of boys and girls--playmates ofTom's and Joe's--came by, and stood looking over the paling fence andtalking in reverent tones of how Tom did so-and-so the last time theysaw him, and how Joe said this and that small trifle (pregnant withawful prophecy, as they could easily see now!)--and each speakerpointed out the exact spot where the lost lads stood at the time, andthen added something like "and I was a-standing just so--just as I amnow, and as if you was him--I was as close as that--and he smiled, justthis way--and then something seemed to go all over me, like--awful, youknow--and I never thought what it meant, of course, but I can see now!"

Then there was a dispute about who saw the dead boys last in life, andmany claimed that dismal distinction, and offered evidences, more orless tampered with by the witness; and when it was ultimately decidedwho DID see the departed last, and exchanged the last words with them, the lucky parties took upon themselves a sort of sacred importance, andwere gaped at and envied by all the rest. One poor chap, who had noother grandeur to offer, said with tolerably manifest pride in theremembrance:

"Well, Tom Sawyer he licked me once. "

But that bid for glory was a failure. Most of the boys could say that, and so that cheapened the distinction too much. The group loiteredaway, still recalling memories of the lost heroes, in awed voices. 

When the Sunday-school hour was finished, the next morning, the bellbegan to toll, instead of ringing in the usual way. It was a very stillSabbath, and the mournful sound seemed in keeping with the musing hushthat lay upon nature. The villagers began to gather, loitering a momentin the vestibule to converse in whispers about the sad event. But therewas no whispering in the house; only the funereal rustling of dressesas the women gathered to their seats disturbed the silence there. Nonecould remember when the little church had been so full before. Therewas finally a waiting pause, an expectant dumbness, and then Aunt Pollyentered, followed by Sid and Mary, and they by the Harper family, allin deep black, and the whole congregation, the old minister as well, rose reverently and stood until the mourners were seated in the frontpew. There was another communing silence, broken at intervals bymuffled sobs, and then the minister spread his hands abroad and prayed. A moving hymn was sung, and the text followed: "I am the Resurrectionand the Life. "

As the service proceeded, the clergyman drew such pictures of thegraces, the winning ways, and the rare promise of the lost lads thatevery soul there, thinking he recognized these pictures, felt a pang inremembering that he had persistently blinded himself to them alwaysbefore, and had as persistently seen only faults and flaws in the poorboys. The minister related many a touching incident in the lives of thedeparted, too, which illustrated their sweet, generous natures, and thepeople could easily see, now, how noble and beautiful those episodeswere, and remembered with grief that at the time they occurred they hadseemed rank rascalities, well deserving of the cowhide. Thecongregation became more and more moved, as the pathetic tale went on, till at last the whole company broke down and joined the weepingmourners in a chorus of anguished sobs, the preacher himself giving wayto his feelings, and crying in the pulpit. 

There was a rustle in the gallery, which nobody noticed; a momentlater the church door creaked; the minister raised his streaming eyesabove his handkerchief, and stood transfixed! First one and thenanother pair of eyes followed the minister's, and then almost with oneimpulse the congregation rose and stared while the three dead boys camemarching up the aisle, Tom in the lead, Joe next, and Huck, a ruin ofdrooping rags, sneaking sheepishly in the rear! They had been hid inthe unused gallery listening to their own funeral sermon!

Aunt Polly, Mary, and the Harpers threw themselves upon their restoredones, smothered them with kisses and poured out thanksgivings, whilepoor Huck stood abashed and uncomfortable, not knowing exactly what todo or where to hide from so many unwelcoming eyes. He wavered, andstarted to slink away, but Tom seized him and said:

"Aunt Polly, it ain't fair. Somebody's got to be glad to see Huck. "

"And so they shall. I'm glad to see him, poor motherless thing!" Andthe loving attentions Aunt Polly lavished upon him were the one thingcapable of making him more uncomfortable than he was before. 

Suddenly the minister shouted at the top of his voice: "Praise Godfrom whom all blessings flow--SING!--and put your hearts in it!"

And they did. Old Hundred swelled up with a triumphant burst, andwhile it shook the rafters Tom Sawyer the Pirate looked around upon theenvying juveniles about him and confessed in his heart that this wasthe proudest moment of his life. 

As the "sold" congregation trooped out they said they would almost bewilling to be made ridiculous again to hear Old Hundred sung like thatonce more. 

Tom got more cuffs and kisses that day--according to Aunt Polly'svarying moods--than he had earned before in a year; and he hardly knewwhich expressed the most gratefulness to God and affection for himself. 

CHAPTER XVIII

THAT was Tom's great secret--the scheme to return home with hisbrother pirates and attend their own funerals. They had paddled over tothe Missouri shore on a log, at dusk on Saturday, landing five or sixmiles below the village; they had slept in the woods at the edge of thetown till nearly daylight, and had then crept through back lanes andalleys and finished their sleep in the gallery of the church among achaos of invalided benches. 

At breakfast, Monday morning, Aunt Polly and Mary were very loving toTom, and very attentive to his wants. There was an unusual amount oftalk. In the course of it Aunt Polly said:

"Well, I don't say it wasn't a fine joke, Tom, to keep everybodysuffering 'most a week so you boys had a good time, but it is a pityyou could be so hard-hearted as to let me suffer so. If you could comeover on a log to go to your funeral, you could have come over and giveme a hint some way that you warn't dead, but only run off. "

"Yes, you could have done that, Tom, " said Mary; "and I believe youwould if you had thought of it. "

"Would you, Tom?" said Aunt Polly, her face lighting wistfully. "Say, now, would you, if you'd thought of it?"

"I--well, I don't know. 'Twould 'a' spoiled everything. "

"Tom, I hoped you loved me that much, " said Aunt Polly, with a grievedtone that discomforted the boy. "It would have been something if you'dcared enough to THINK of it, even if you didn't DO it. "

"Now, auntie, that ain't any harm, " pleaded Mary; "it's only Tom'sgiddy way--he is always in such a rush that he never thinks ofanything. "

"More's the pity. Sid would have thought. And Sid would have come andDONE it, too. Tom, you'll look back, some day, when it's too late, andwish you'd cared a little more for me when it would have cost you solittle. "

"Now, auntie, you know I do care for you, " said Tom. 

"I'd know it better if you acted more like it. "

"I wish now I'd thought, " said Tom, with a repentant tone; "but Idreamt about you, anyway. That's something, ain't it?"

"It ain't much--a cat does that much--but it's better than nothing. What did you dream?"

"Why, Wednesday night I dreamt that you was sitting over there by thebed, and Sid was sitting by the woodbox, and Mary next to him. "

"Well, so we did. So we always do. I'm glad your dreams could takeeven that much trouble about us. "

"And I dreamt that Joe Harper's mother was here. "

"Why, she was here! Did you dream any more?"

"Oh, lots. But it's so dim, now. "

"Well, try to recollect--can't you?"

"Somehow it seems to me that the wind--the wind blowed the--the--"

"Try harder, Tom! The wind did blow something. Come!"

Tom pressed his fingers on his forehead an anxious minute, and thensaid:

"I've got it now! I've got it now! It blowed the candle!"

"Mercy on us! Go on, Tom--go on!"

"And it seems to me that you said, 'Why, I believe that that door--'"

"Go ON, Tom!"

"Just let me study a moment--just a moment. Oh, yes--you said youbelieved the door was open. "

"As I'm sitting here, I did! Didn't I, Mary! Go on!"

"And then--and then--well I won't be certain, but it seems like as ifyou made Sid go and--and--"

"Well? Well? What did I make him do, Tom? What did I make him do?"

"You made him--you--Oh, you made him shut it. "

"Well, for the land's sake! I never heard the beat of that in all mydays! Don't tell ME there ain't anything in dreams, any more. SerenyHarper shall know of this before I'm an hour older. I'd like to see herget around THIS with her rubbage 'bout superstition. Go on, Tom!"

"Oh, it's all getting just as bright as day, now. Next you said Iwarn't BAD, only mischeevous and harum-scarum, and not any moreresponsible than--than--I think it was a colt, or something. "

"And so it was! Well, goodness gracious! Go on, Tom!"

"And then you began to cry. "

"So I did. So I did. Not the first time, neither. And then--"

"Then Mrs. Harper she began to cry, and said Joe was just the same, and she wished she hadn't whipped him for taking cream when she'dthrowed it out her own self--"

"Tom! The sperrit was upon you! You was a prophesying--that's what youwas doing! Land alive, go on, Tom!"

"Then Sid he said--he said--"

"I don't think I said anything, " said Sid. 

"Yes you did, Sid, " said Mary. 

"Shut your heads and let Tom go on! What did he say, Tom?"

"He said--I THINK he said he hoped I was better off where I was goneto, but if I'd been better sometimes--"

"THERE, d'you hear that! It was his very words!"

"And you shut him up sharp. "

"I lay I did! There must 'a' been an angel there. There WAS an angelthere, somewheres!"

"And Mrs. Harper told about Joe scaring her with a firecracker, andyou told about Peter and the Painkiller--"

"Just as true as I live!"

"And then there was a whole lot of talk 'bout dragging the river forus, and 'bout having the funeral Sunday, and then you and old MissHarper hugged and cried, and she went. "

"It happened just so! It happened just so, as sure as I'm a-sitting inthese very tracks. Tom, you couldn't told it more like if you'd 'a'seen it! And then what? Go on, Tom!"

"Then I thought you prayed for me--and I could see you and hear everyword you said. And you went to bed, and I was so sorry that I took andwrote on a piece of sycamore bark, 'We ain't dead--we are only offbeing pirates, ' and put it on the table by the candle; and then youlooked so good, laying there asleep, that I thought I went and leanedover and kissed you on the lips. "

"Did you, Tom, DID you! I just forgive you everything for that!" Andshe seized the boy in a crushing embrace that made him feel like theguiltiest of villains. 

"It was very kind, even though it was only a--dream, " Sid soliloquizedjust audibly. 

"Shut up, Sid! A body does just the same in a dream as he'd do if hewas awake. Here's a big Milum apple I've been saving for you, Tom, ifyou was ever found again--now go 'long to school. I'm thankful to thegood God and Father of us all I've got you back, that's long-sufferingand merciful to them that believe on Him and keep His word, thoughgoodness knows I'm unworthy of it, but if only the worthy ones got Hisblessings and had His hand to help them over the rough places, there'sfew enough would smile here or ever enter into His rest when the longnight comes. Go 'long Sid, Mary, Tom--take yourselves off--you'vehendered me long enough. "

The children left for school, and the old lady to call on Mrs. Harperand vanquish her realism with Tom's marvellous dream. Sid had betterjudgment than to utter the thought that was in his mind as he left thehouse. It was this: "Pretty thin--as long a dream as that, without anymistakes in it!"

What a hero Tom was become, now! He did not go skipping and prancing, but moved with a dignified swagger as became a pirate who felt that thepublic eye was on him. And indeed it was; he tried not to seem to seethe looks or hear the remarks as he passed along, but they were foodand drink to him. Smaller boys than himself flocked at his heels, asproud to be seen with him, and tolerated by him, as if he had been thedrummer at the head of a procession or the elephant leading a menagerieinto town. Boys of his own size pretended not to know he had been awayat all; but they were consuming with envy, nevertheless. They wouldhave given anything to have that swarthy suntanned skin of his, and hisglittering notoriety; and Tom would not have parted with either for acircus. 

At school the children made so much of him and of Joe, and deliveredsuch eloquent admiration from their eyes, that the two heroes were notlong in becoming insufferably "stuck-up. " They began to tell theiradventures to hungry listeners--but they only began; it was not a thinglikely to have an end, with imaginations like theirs to furnishmaterial. And finally, when they got out their pipes and went serenelypuffing around, the very summit of glory was reached. 

Tom decided that he could be independent of Becky Thatcher now. Glorywas sufficient. He would live for glory. Now that he was distinguished, maybe she would be wanting to "make up. " Well, let her--she should seethat he could be as indifferent as some other people. Presently shearrived. Tom pretended not to see her. He moved away and joined a groupof boys and girls and began to talk. Soon he observed that she wastripping gayly back and forth with flushed face and dancing eyes, pretending to be busy chasing schoolmates, and screaming with laughterwhen she made a capture; but he noticed that she always made hercaptures in his vicinity, and that she seemed to cast a conscious eyein his direction at such times, too. It gratified all the viciousvanity that was in him; and so, instead of winning him, it only "sethim up" the more and made him the more diligent to avoid betraying thathe knew she was about. Presently she gave over skylarking, and movedirresolutely about, sighing once or twice and glancing furtively andwistfully toward Tom. Then she observed that now Tom was talking moreparticularly to Amy Lawrence than to any one else. She felt a sharppang and grew disturbed and uneasy at once. She tried to go away, buther feet were treacherous, and carried her to the group instead. Shesaid to a girl almost at Tom's elbow--with sham vivacity:

"Why, Mary Austin! you bad girl, why didn't you come to Sunday-school?"

"I did come--didn't you see me?"

"Why, no! Did you? Where did you sit?"

"I was in Miss Peters' class, where I always go. I saw YOU. "

"Did you? Why, it's funny I didn't see you. I wanted to tell you aboutthe picnic. "

"Oh, that's jolly. Who's going to give it?"

"My ma's going to let me have one. "

"Oh, goody; I hope she'll let ME come. "

"Well, she will. The picnic's for me. She'll let anybody come that Iwant, and I want you. "

"That's ever so nice. When is it going to be?"

"By and by. Maybe about vacation. "

"Oh, won't it be fun! You going to have all the girls and boys?"

"Yes, every one that's friends to me--or wants to be"; and she glancedever so furtively at Tom, but he talked right along to Amy Lawrenceabout the terrible storm on the island, and how the lightning tore thegreat sycamore tree "all to flinders" while he was "standing withinthree feet of it. "

"Oh, may I come?" said Grace Miller. 

"Yes. "

"And me?" said Sally Rogers. 

"Yes. "

"And me, too?" said Susy Harper. "And Joe?"

"Yes. "

And so on, with clapping of joyful hands till all the group had beggedfor invitations but Tom and Amy. Then Tom turned coolly away, stilltalking, and took Amy with him. Becky's lips trembled and the tearscame to her eyes; she hid these signs with a forced gayety and went onchattering, but the life had gone out of the picnic, now, and out ofeverything else; she got away as soon as she could and hid herself andhad what her sex call "a good cry. " Then she sat moody, with woundedpride, till the bell rang. She roused up, now, with a vindictive castin her eye, and gave her plaited tails a shake and said she knew whatSHE'D do. 

At recess Tom continued his flirtation with Amy with jubilantself-satisfaction. And he kept drifting about to find Becky and lacerateher with the performance. At last he spied her, but there was a suddenfalling of his mercury. She was sitting cosily on a little bench behindthe schoolhouse looking at a picture-book with Alfred Temple--and soabsorbed were they, and their heads so close together over the book, that they did not seem to be conscious of anything in the world besides. Jealousy ran red-hot through Tom's veins. He began to hate himself forthrowing away the chance Becky had offered for a reconciliation. Hecalled himself a fool, and all the hard names he could think of. Hewanted to cry with vexation. Amy chatted happily along, as they walked, for her heart was singing, but Tom's tongue had lost its function. Hedid not hear what Amy was saying, and whenever she paused expectantly hecould only stammer an awkward assent, which was as often misplaced asotherwise. He kept drifting to the rear of the schoolhouse, again andagain, to sear his eyeballs with the hateful spectacle there. He couldnot help it. And it maddened him to see, as he thought he saw, thatBecky Thatcher never once suspected that he was even in the land of theliving. But she did see, nevertheless; and she knew she was winning herfight, too, and was glad to see him suffer as she had suffered. 

Amy's happy prattle became intolerable. Tom hinted at things he had toattend to; things that must be done; and time was fleeting. But invain--the girl chirped on. Tom thought, "Oh, hang her, ain't I evergoing to get rid of her?" At last he must be attending to thosethings--and she said artlessly that she would be "around" when schoollet out. And he hastened away, hating her for it. 

"Any other boy!" Tom thought, grating his teeth. "Any boy in the wholetown but that Saint Louis smarty that thinks he dresses so fine and isaristocracy! Oh, all right, I licked you the first day you ever sawthis town, mister, and I'll lick you again! You just wait till I catchyou out! I'll just take and--"

And he went through the motions of thrashing an imaginary boy--pummelling the air, and kicking and gouging. "Oh, you do, do you? Youholler 'nough, do you? Now, then, let that learn you!" And so theimaginary flogging was finished to his satisfaction. 

Tom fled home at noon. His conscience could not endure any more ofAmy's grateful happiness, and his jealousy could bear no more of theother distress. Becky resumed her picture inspections with Alfred, butas the minutes dragged along and no Tom came to suffer, her triumphbegan to cloud and she lost interest; gravity and absent-mindednessfollowed, and then melancholy; two or three times she pricked up herear at a footstep, but it was a false hope; no Tom came. At last shegrew entirely miserable and wished she hadn't carried it so far. Whenpoor Alfred, seeing that he was losing her, he did not know how, keptexclaiming: "Oh, here's a jolly one! look at this!" she lost patienceat last, and said, "Oh, don't bother me! I don't care for them!" andburst into tears, and got up and walked away. 

Alfred dropped alongside and was going to try to comfort her, but shesaid:

"Go away and leave me alone, can't you! I hate you!"

So the boy halted, wondering what he could have done--for she had saidshe would look at pictures all through the nooning--and she walked on, crying. Then Alfred went musing into the deserted schoolhouse. He washumiliated and angry. He easily guessed his way to the truth--the girlhad simply made a convenience of him to vent her spite upon Tom Sawyer. He was far from hating Tom the less when this thought occurred to him. He wished there was some way to get that boy into trouble without muchrisk to himself. Tom's spelling-book fell under his eye. Here was hisopportunity. He gratefully opened to the lesson for the afternoon andpoured ink upon the page. 

Becky, glancing in at a window behind him at the moment, saw the act, and moved on, without discovering herself. She started homeward, now, intending to find Tom and tell him; Tom would be thankful and theirtroubles would be healed. Before she was half way home, however, shehad changed her mind. The thought of Tom's treatment of her when shewas talking about her picnic came scorching back and filled her withshame. She resolved to let him get whipped on the damagedspelling-book's account, and to hate him forever, into the bargain. 

CHAPTER XIX

TOM arrived at home in a dreary mood, and the first thing his auntsaid to him showed him that he had brought his sorrows to anunpromising market:

"Tom, I've a notion to skin you alive!"

"Auntie, what have I done?"

"Well, you've done enough. Here I go over to Sereny Harper, like anold softy, expecting I'm going to make her believe all that rubbageabout that dream, when lo and behold you she'd found out from Joe thatyou was over here and heard all the talk we had that night. Tom, Idon't know what is to become of a boy that will act like that. It makesme feel so bad to think you could let me go to Sereny Harper and makesuch a fool of myself and never say a word. "

This was a new aspect of the thing. His smartness of the morning hadseemed to Tom a good joke before, and very ingenious. It merely lookedmean and shabby now. He hung his head and could not think of anythingto say for a moment. Then he said:

"Auntie, I wish I hadn't done it--but I didn't think. "

"Oh, child, you never think. You never think of anything but your ownselfishness. You could think to come all the way over here fromJackson's Island in the night to laugh at our troubles, and you couldthink to fool me with a lie about a dream; but you couldn't ever thinkto pity us and save us from sorrow. "

"Auntie, I know now it was mean, but I didn't mean to be mean. Ididn't, honest. And besides, I didn't come over here to laugh at youthat night. "

"What did you come for, then?"

"It was to tell you not to be uneasy about us, because we hadn't gotdrownded. "

"Tom, Tom, I would be the thankfullest soul in this world if I couldbelieve you ever had as good a thought as that, but you know you neverdid--and I know it, Tom. "

"Indeed and 'deed I did, auntie--I wish I may never stir if I didn't. "

"Oh, Tom, don't lie--don't do it. It only makes things a hundred timesworse. "

"It ain't a lie, auntie; it's the truth. I wanted to keep you fromgrieving--that was all that made me come. "

"I'd give the whole world to believe that--it would cover up a powerof sins, Tom. I'd 'most be glad you'd run off and acted so bad. But itain't reasonable; because, why didn't you tell me, child?"

"Why, you see, when you got to talking about the funeral, I just gotall full of the idea of our coming and hiding in the church, and Icouldn't somehow bear to spoil it. So I just put the bark back in mypocket and kept mum. "

"What bark?"

"The bark I had wrote on to tell you we'd gone pirating. I wish, now, you'd waked up when I kissed you--I do, honest. "

The hard lines in his aunt's face relaxed and a sudden tendernessdawned in her eyes. 

"DID you kiss me, Tom?"

"Why, yes, I did. "

"Are you sure you did, Tom?"

"Why, yes, I did, auntie--certain sure. "

"What did you kiss me for, Tom?"

"Because I loved you so, and you laid there moaning and I was so sorry. "

The words sounded like truth. The old lady could not hide a tremor inher voice when she said:

"Kiss me again, Tom!--and be off with you to school, now, and don'tbother me any more. "

The moment he was gone, she ran to a closet and got out the ruin of ajacket which Tom had gone pirating in. Then she stopped, with it in herhand, and said to herself:

"No, I don't dare. Poor boy, I reckon he's lied about it--but it's ablessed, blessed lie, there's such a comfort come from it. I hope theLord--I KNOW the Lord will forgive him, because it was suchgoodheartedness in him to tell it. But I don't want to find out it's alie. I won't look. "

She put the jacket away, and stood by musing a minute. Twice she putout her hand to take the garment again, and twice she refrained. Oncemore she ventured, and this time she fortified herself with thethought: "It's a good lie--it's a good lie--I won't let it grieve me. "So she sought the jacket pocket. A moment later she was reading Tom'spiece of bark through flowing tears and saying: "I could forgive theboy, now, if he'd committed a million sins!"

CHAPTER XX

THERE was something about Aunt Polly's manner, when she kissed Tom, that swept away his low spirits and made him lighthearted and happyagain. He started to school and had the luck of coming upon BeckyThatcher at the head of Meadow Lane. His mood always determined hismanner. Without a moment's hesitation he ran to her and said:

"I acted mighty mean to-day, Becky, and I'm so sorry. I won't ever, ever do that way again, as long as ever I live--please make up, won'tyou?"

The girl stopped and looked him scornfully in the face:

"I'll thank you to keep yourself TO yourself, Mr. Thomas Sawyer. I'llnever speak to you again. "

She tossed her head and passed on. Tom was so stunned that he had noteven presence of mind enough to say "Who cares, Miss Smarty?" until theright time to say it had gone by. So he said nothing. But he was in afine rage, nevertheless. He moped into the schoolyard wishing she werea boy, and imagining how he would trounce her if she were. He presentlyencountered her and delivered a stinging remark as he passed. Shehurled one in return, and the angry breach was complete. It seemed toBecky, in her hot resentment, that she could hardly wait for school to"take in, " she was so impatient to see Tom flogged for the injuredspelling-book. If she had had any lingering notion of exposing AlfredTemple, Tom's offensive fling had driven it entirely away. 

Poor girl, she did not know how fast she was nearing trouble herself. The master, Mr. Dobbins, had reached middle age with an unsatisfiedambition. The darling of his desires was, to be a doctor, but povertyhad decreed that he should be nothing higher than a villageschoolmaster. Every day he took a mysterious book out of his desk andabsorbed himself in it at times when no classes were reciting. He keptthat book under lock and key. There was not an urchin in school but wasperishing to have a glimpse of it, but the chance never came. Every boyand girl had a theory about the nature of that book; but no twotheories were alike, and there was no way of getting at the facts inthe case. Now, as Becky was passing by the desk, which stood near thedoor, she noticed that the key was in the lock! It was a preciousmoment. She glanced around; found herself alone, and the next instantshe had the book in her hands. The title-page--Professor Somebody'sANATOMY--carried no information to her mind; so she began to turn theleaves. She came at once upon a handsomely engraved and coloredfrontispiece--a human figure, stark naked. At that moment a shadow fellon the page and Tom Sawyer stepped in at the door and caught a glimpseof the picture. Becky snatched at the book to close it, and had thehard luck to tear the pictured page half down the middle. She thrustthe volume into the desk, turned the key, and burst out crying withshame and vexation. 

"Tom Sawyer, you are just as mean as you can be, to sneak up on aperson and look at what they're looking at. "

"How could I know you was looking at anything?"

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Tom Sawyer; you know you'regoing to tell on me, and oh, what shall I do, what shall I do! I'll bewhipped, and I never was whipped in school. "

Then she stamped her little foot and said:

"BE so mean if you want to! I know something that's going to happen. You just wait and you'll see! Hateful, hateful, hateful!"--and sheflung out of the house with a new explosion of crying. 

Tom stood still, rather flustered by this onslaught. Presently he saidto himself:

"What a curious kind of a fool a girl is! Never been licked in school!Shucks! What's a licking! That's just like a girl--they're sothin-skinned and chicken-hearted. Well, of course I ain't going to tellold Dobbins on this little fool, because there's other ways of gettingeven on her, that ain't so mean; but what of it? Old Dobbins will askwho it was tore his book. Nobody'll answer. Then he'll do just the wayhe always does--ask first one and then t'other, and when he comes to theright girl he'll know it, without any telling. Girls' faces always tellon them. They ain't got any backbone. She'll get licked. Well, it's akind of a tight place for Becky Thatcher, because there ain't any wayout of it. " Tom conned the thing a moment longer, and then added: "Allright, though; she'd like to see me in just such a fix--let her sweat itout!"

Tom joined the mob of skylarking scholars outside. In a few momentsthe master arrived and school "took in. " Tom did not feel a stronginterest in his studies. Every time he stole a glance at the girls'side of the room Becky's face troubled him. Considering all things, hedid not want to pity her, and yet it was all he could do to help it. Hecould get up no exultation that was really worthy the name. Presentlythe spelling-book discovery was made, and Tom's mind was entirely fullof his own matters for a while after that. Becky roused up from herlethargy of distress and showed good interest in the proceedings. Shedid not expect that Tom could get out of his trouble by denying that hespilt the ink on the book himself; and she was right. The denial onlyseemed to make the thing worse for Tom. Becky supposed she would beglad of that, and she tried to believe she was glad of it, but shefound she was not certain. When the worst came to the worst, she had animpulse to get up and tell on Alfred Temple, but she made an effort andforced herself to keep still--because, said she to herself, "he'll tellabout me tearing the picture sure. I wouldn't say a word, not to savehis life!"

Tom took his whipping and went back to his seat not at allbroken-hearted, for he thought it was possible that he had unknowinglyupset the ink on the spelling-book himself, in some skylarking bout--hehad denied it for form's sake and because it was custom, and had stuckto the denial from principle. 

A whole hour drifted by, the master sat nodding in his throne, the airwas drowsy with the hum of study. By and by, Mr. Dobbins straightenedhimself up, yawned, then unlocked his desk, and reached for his book, but seemed undecided whether to take it out or leave it. Most of thepupils glanced up languidly, but there were two among them that watchedhis movements with intent eyes. Mr. Dobbins fingered his book absentlyfor a while, then took it out and settled himself in his chair to read!Tom shot a glance at Becky. He had seen a hunted and helpless rabbitlook as she did, with a gun levelled at its head. Instantly he forgothis quarrel with her. Quick--something must be done! done in a flash, too! But the very imminence of the emergency paralyzed his invention. Good!--he had an inspiration! He would run and snatch the book, springthrough the door and fly. But his resolution shook for one littleinstant, and the chance was lost--the master opened the volume. If Tomonly had the wasted opportunity back again! Too late. There was no helpfor Becky now, he said. The next moment the master faced the school. Every eye sank under his gaze. There was that in it which smote eventhe innocent with fear. There was silence while one might count ten--the master was gathering his wrath. Then he spoke: "Who tore this book?"

There was not a sound. One could have heard a pin drop. The stillnesscontinued; the master searched face after face for signs of guilt. 

"Benjamin Rogers, did you tear this book?"

A denial. Another pause. 

"Joseph Harper, did you?"

Another denial. Tom's uneasiness grew more and more intense under theslow torture of these proceedings. The master scanned the ranks ofboys--considered a while, then turned to the girls:

"Amy Lawrence?"

A shake of the head. 

"Gracie Miller?"

The same sign. 

"Susan Harper, did you do this?"

Another negative. The next girl was Becky Thatcher. Tom was tremblingfrom head to foot with excitement and a sense of the hopelessness ofthe situation. 

"Rebecca Thatcher" [Tom glanced at her face--it was white with terror]--"did you tear--no, look me in the face" [her hands rose in appeal]--"did you tear this book?"

A thought shot like lightning through Tom's brain. He sprang to hisfeet and shouted--"I done it!"

The school stared in perplexity at this incredible folly. Tom stood amoment, to gather his dismembered faculties; and when he steppedforward to go to his punishment the surprise, the gratitude, theadoration that shone upon him out of poor Becky's eyes seemed payenough for a hundred floggings. Inspired by the splendor of his ownact, he took without an outcry the most merciless flaying that even Mr. Dobbins had ever administered; and also received with indifference theadded cruelty of a command to remain two hours after school should bedismissed--for he knew who would wait for him outside till hiscaptivity was done, and not count the tedious time as loss, either. 

Tom went to bed that night planning vengeance against Alfred Temple;for with shame and repentance Becky had told him all, not forgettingher own treachery; but even the longing for vengeance had to give way, soon, to pleasanter musings, and he fell asleep at last with Becky'slatest words lingering dreamily in his ear--

"Tom, how COULD you be so noble!"

CHAPTER XXI

VACATION was approaching. The schoolmaster, always severe, grewseverer and more exacting than ever, for he wanted the school to make agood showing on "Examination" day. His rod and his ferule were seldomidle now--at least among the smaller pupils. Only the biggest boys, andyoung ladies of eighteen and twenty, escaped lashing. Mr. Dobbins'lashings were very vigorous ones, too; for although he carried, underhis wig, a perfectly bald and shiny head, he had only reached middleage, and there was no sign of feebleness in his muscle. As the greatday approached, all the tyranny that was in him came to the surface; heseemed to take a vindictive pleasure in punishing the leastshortcomings. The consequence was, that the smaller boys spent theirdays in terror and suffering and their nights in plotting revenge. Theythrew away no opportunity to do the master a mischief. But he keptahead all the time. The retribution that followed every vengefulsuccess was so sweeping and majestic that the boys always retired fromthe field badly worsted. At last they conspired together and hit upon aplan that promised a dazzling victory. They swore in the sign-painter'sboy, told him the scheme, and asked his help. He had his own reasonsfor being delighted, for the master boarded in his father's family andhad given the boy ample cause to hate him. The master's wife would goon a visit to the country in a few days, and there would be nothing tointerfere with the plan; the master always prepared himself for greatoccasions by getting pretty well fuddled, and the sign-painter's boysaid that when the dominie had reached the proper condition onExamination Evening he would "manage the thing" while he napped in hischair; then he would have him awakened at the right time and hurriedaway to school. 

In the fulness of time the interesting occasion arrived. At eight inthe evening the schoolhouse was brilliantly lighted, and adorned withwreaths and festoons of foliage and flowers. The master sat throned inhis great chair upon a raised platform, with his blackboard behind him. He was looking tolerably mellow. Three rows of benches on each side andsix rows in front of him were occupied by the dignitaries of the townand by the parents of the pupils. To his left, back of the rows ofcitizens, was a spacious temporary platform upon which were seated thescholars who were to take part in the exercises of the evening; rows ofsmall boys, washed and dressed to an intolerable state of discomfort;rows of gawky big boys; snowbanks of girls and young ladies clad inlawn and muslin and conspicuously conscious of their bare arms, theirgrandmothers' ancient trinkets, their bits of pink and blue ribbon andthe flowers in their hair. All the rest of the house was filled withnon-participating scholars. 

The exercises began. A very little boy stood up and sheepishlyrecited, "You'd scarce expect one of my age to speak in public on thestage, " etc. --accompanying himself with the painfully exact andspasmodic gestures which a machine might have used--supposing themachine to be a trifle out of order. But he got through safely, thoughcruelly scared, and got a fine round of applause when he made hismanufactured bow and retired. 

A little shamefaced girl lisped, "Mary had a little lamb, " etc. , performed a compassion-inspiring curtsy, got her meed of applause, andsat down flushed and happy. 

Tom Sawyer stepped forward with conceited confidence and soared intothe unquenchable and indestructible "Give me liberty or give me death"speech, with fine fury and frantic gesticulation, and broke down in themiddle of it. A ghastly stage-fright seized him, his legs quaked underhim and he was like to choke. True, he had the manifest sympathy of thehouse but he had the house's silence, too, which was even worse thanits sympathy. The master frowned, and this completed the disaster. Tomstruggled awhile and then retired, utterly defeated. There was a weakattempt at applause, but it died early. 

"The Boy Stood on the Burning Deck" followed; also "The Assyrian CameDown, " and other declamatory gems. Then there were reading exercises, and a spelling fight. The meagre Latin class recited with honor. Theprime feature of the evening was in order, now--original "compositions"by the young ladies. Each in her turn stepped forward to the edge ofthe platform, cleared her throat, held up her manuscript (tied withdainty ribbon), and proceeded to read, with labored attention to"expression" and punctuation. The themes were the same that had beenilluminated upon similar occasions by their mothers before them, theirgrandmothers, and doubtless all their ancestors in the female lineclear back to the Crusades. "Friendship" was one; "Memories of OtherDays"; "Religion in History"; "Dream Land"; "The Advantages ofCulture"; "Forms of Political Government Compared and Contrasted";"Melancholy"; "Filial Love"; "Heart Longings, " etc. , etc. 

A prevalent feature in these compositions was a nursed and pettedmelancholy; another was a wasteful and opulent gush of "fine language";another was a tendency to lug in by the ears particularly prized wordsand phrases until they were worn entirely out; and a peculiarity thatconspicuously marked and marred them was the inveterate and intolerablesermon that wagged its crippled tail at the end of each and every oneof them. No matter what the subject might be, a brain-racking effortwas made to squirm it into some aspect or other that the moral andreligious mind could contemplate with edification. The glaringinsincerity of these sermons was not sufficient to compass thebanishment of the fashion from the schools, and it is not sufficientto-day; it never will be sufficient while the world stands, perhaps. There is no school in all our land where the young ladies do not feelobliged to close their compositions with a sermon; and you will findthat the sermon of the most frivolous and the least religious girl inthe school is always the longest and the most relentlessly pious. Butenough of this. Homely truth is unpalatable. 

Let us return to the "Examination. " The first composition that wasread was one entitled "Is this, then, Life?" Perhaps the reader canendure an extract from it:

 "In the common walks of life, with what delightful emotions does the youthful mind look forward to some anticipated scene of festivity! Imagination is busy sketching rose-tinted pictures of joy. In fancy, the voluptuous votary of fashion sees herself amid the festive throng, 'the observed of all observers. ' Her graceful form, arrayed in snowy robes, is whirling through the mazes of the joyous dance; her eye is brightest, her step is lightest in the gay assembly. 

 "In such delicious fancies time quickly glides by, and the welcome hour arrives for her entrance into the Elysian world, of which she has had such bright dreams. How fairy-like does everything appear to her enchanted vision! Each new scene is more charming than the last. But after a while she finds that beneath this goodly exterior, all is vanity, the flattery which once charmed her soul, now grates harshly upon her ear; the ball-room has lost its charms; and with wasted health and imbittered heart, she turns away with the conviction that earthly pleasures cannot satisfy the longings of the soul!"

And so forth and so on. There was a buzz of gratification from time totime during the reading, accompanied by whispered ejaculations of "Howsweet!" "How eloquent!" "So true!" etc. , and after the thing had closedwith a peculiarly afflicting sermon the applause was enthusiastic. 

Then arose a slim, melancholy girl, whose face had the "interesting"paleness that comes of pills and indigestion, and read a "poem. " Twostanzas of it will do:

 "A MISSOURI MAIDEN'S FAREWELL TO ALABAMA

 "Alabama, good-bye! I love thee well! But yet for a while do I leave thee now! Sad, yes, sad thoughts of thee my heart doth swell, And burning recollections throng my brow! For I have wandered through thy flowery woods; Have roamed and read near Tallapoosa's stream; Have listened to Tallassee's warring floods, And wooed on Coosa's side Aurora's beam. 

 "Yet shame I not to bear an o'er-full heart, Nor blush to turn behind my tearful eyes; 'Tis from no stranger land I now must part, 'Tis to no strangers left I yield these sighs. Welcome and home were mine within this State, Whose vales I leave--whose spires fade fast from me And cold must be mine eyes, and heart, and tete, When, dear Alabama! they turn cold on thee!"

There were very few there who knew what "tete" meant, but the poem wasvery satisfactory, nevertheless. 

Next appeared a dark-complexioned, black-eyed, black-haired younglady, who paused an impressive moment, assumed a tragic expression, andbegan to read in a measured, solemn tone:

 "A VISION

 "Dark and tempestuous was night. Around the throne on high not a single star quivered; but the deep intonations of the heavy thunder constantly vibrated upon the ear; whilst the terrific lightning revelled in angry mood through the cloudy chambers of heaven, seeming to scorn the power exerted over its terror by the illustrious Franklin! Even the boisterous winds unanimously came forth from their mystic homes, and blustered about as if to enhance by their aid the wildness of the scene. 

 "At such a time, so dark, so dreary, for human sympathy my very spirit sighed; but instead thereof, "'My dearest friend, my counsellor, my comforter and guide--My joy in grief, my second bliss in joy, ' came to my side. She moved like one of those bright beings pictured in the sunny walks of fancy's Eden by the romantic and young, a queen of beauty unadorned save by her own transcendent loveliness. So soft was her step, it failed to make even a sound, and but for the magical thrill imparted by her genial touch, as other unobtrusive beauties, she would have glided away un-perceived--unsought. A strange sadness rested upon her features, like icy tears upon the robe of December, as she pointed to the contending elements without, and bade me contemplate the two beings presented. "

This nightmare occupied some ten pages of manuscript and wound up witha sermon so destructive of all hope to non-Presbyterians that it tookthe first prize. This composition was considered to be the very finesteffort of the evening. The mayor of the village, in delivering theprize to the author of it, made a warm speech in which he said that itwas by far the most "eloquent" thing he had ever listened to, and thatDaniel Webster himself might well be proud of it. 

It may be remarked, in passing, that the number of compositions inwhich the word "beauteous" was over-fondled, and human experiencereferred to as "life's page, " was up to the usual average. 

Now the master, mellow almost to the verge of geniality, put his chairaside, turned his back to the audience, and began to draw a map ofAmerica on the blackboard, to exercise the geography class upon. But hemade a sad business of it with his unsteady hand, and a smotheredtitter rippled over the house. He knew what the matter was, and sethimself to right it. He sponged out lines and remade them; but he onlydistorted them more than ever, and the tittering was more pronounced. He threw his entire attention upon his work, now, as if determined notto be put down by the mirth. He felt that all eyes were fastened uponhim; he imagined he was succeeding, and yet the tittering continued; iteven manifestly increased. And well it might. There was a garret above, pierced with a scuttle over his head; and down through this scuttlecame a cat, suspended around the haunches by a string; she had a ragtied about her head and jaws to keep her from mewing; as she slowlydescended she curved upward and clawed at the string, she swungdownward and clawed at the intangible air. The tittering rose higherand higher--the cat was within six inches of the absorbed teacher'shead--down, down, a little lower, and she grabbed his wig with herdesperate claws, clung to it, and was snatched up into the garret in aninstant with her trophy still in her possession! And how the light didblaze abroad from the master's bald pate--for the sign-painter's boyhad GILDED it!

That broke up the meeting. The boys were avenged. Vacation had come. 

 NOTE:--The pretended "compositions" quoted in this chapter are taken without alteration from a volume entitled "Prose and Poetry, by a Western Lady"--but they are exactly and precisely after the schoolgirl pattern, and hence are much happier than any mere imitations could be. 

CHAPTER XXII

TOM joined the new order of Cadets of Temperance, being attracted bythe showy character of their "regalia. " He promised to abstain fromsmoking, chewing, and profanity as long as he remained a member. Now hefound out a new thing--namely, that to promise not to do a thing is thesurest way in the world to make a body want to go and do that verything. Tom soon found himself tormented with a desire to drink andswear; the desire grew to be so intense that nothing but the hope of achance to display himself in his red sash kept him from withdrawingfrom the order. Fourth of July was coming; but he soon gave that up--gave it up before he had worn his shackles over forty-eight hours--andfixed his hopes upon old Judge Frazer, justice of the peace, who wasapparently on his deathbed and would have a big public funeral, sincehe was so high an official. During three days Tom was deeply concernedabout the Judge's condition and hungry for news of it. Sometimes hishopes ran high--so high that he would venture to get out his regaliaand practise before the looking-glass. But the Judge had a mostdiscouraging way of fluctuating. At last he was pronounced upon themend--and then convalescent. Tom was disgusted; and felt a sense ofinjury, too. He handed in his resignation at once--and that night theJudge suffered a relapse and died. Tom resolved that he would nevertrust a man like that again. 

The funeral was a fine thing. The Cadets paraded in a style calculatedto kill the late member with envy. Tom was a free boy again, however--there was something in that. He could drink and swear, now--but foundto his surprise that he did not want to. The simple fact that he could, took the desire away, and the charm of it. 

Tom presently wondered to find that his coveted vacation was beginningto hang a little heavily on his hands. 

He attempted a diary--but nothing happened during three days, and sohe abandoned it. 

The first of all the negro minstrel shows came to town, and made asensation. Tom and Joe Harper got up a band of performers and werehappy for two days. 

Even the Glorious Fourth was in some sense a failure, for it rainedhard, there was no procession in consequence, and the greatest man inthe world (as Tom supposed), Mr. Benton, an actual United StatesSenator, proved an overwhelming disappointment--for he was nottwenty-five feet high, nor even anywhere in the neighborhood of it. 

A circus came. The boys played circus for three days afterward intents made of rag carpeting--admission, three pins for boys, two forgirls--and then circusing was abandoned. 

A phrenologist and a mesmerizer came--and went again and left thevillage duller and drearier than ever. 

There were some boys-and-girls' parties, but they were so few and sodelightful that they only made the aching voids between ache the harder. 

Becky Thatcher was gone to her Constantinople home to stay with herparents during vacation--so there was no bright side to life anywhere. 

The dreadful secret of the murder was a chronic misery. It was a verycancer for permanency and pain. 

Then came the measles. 

During two long weeks Tom lay a prisoner, dead to the world and itshappenings. He was very ill, he was interested in nothing. When he gotupon his feet at last and moved feebly down-town, a melancholy changehad come over everything and every creature. There had been a"revival, " and everybody had "got religion, " not only the adults, buteven the boys and girls. Tom went about, hoping against hope for thesight of one blessed sinful face, but disappointment crossed himeverywhere. He found Joe Harper studying a Testament, and turned sadlyaway from the depressing spectacle. He sought Ben Rogers, and found himvisiting the poor with a basket of tracts. He hunted up Jim Hollis, whocalled his attention to the precious blessing of his late measles as awarning. Every boy he encountered added another ton to his depression;and when, in desperation, he flew for refuge at last to the bosom ofHuckleberry Finn and was received with a Scriptural quotation, hisheart broke and he crept home and to bed realizing that he alone of allthe town was lost, forever and forever. 

And that night there came on a terrific storm, with driving rain, awful claps of thunder and blinding sheets of lightning. He covered hishead with the bedclothes and waited in a horror of suspense for hisdoom; for he had not the shadow of a doubt that all this hubbub wasabout him. He believed he had taxed the forbearance of the powers aboveto the extremity of endurance and that this was the result. It mighthave seemed to him a waste of pomp and ammunition to kill a bug with abattery of artillery, but there seemed nothing incongruous about thegetting up such an expensive thunderstorm as this to knock the turffrom under an insect like himself. 

By and by the tempest spent itself and died without accomplishing itsobject. The boy's first impulse was to be grateful, and reform. Hissecond was to wait--for there might not be any more storms. 

The next day the doctors were back; Tom had relapsed. The three weekshe spent on his back this time seemed an entire age. When he got abroadat last he was hardly grateful that he had been spared, remembering howlonely was his estate, how companionless and forlorn he was. He driftedlistlessly down the street and found Jim Hollis acting as judge in ajuvenile court that was trying a cat for murder, in the presence of hervictim, a bird. He found Joe Harper and Huck Finn up an alley eating astolen melon. Poor lads! they--like Tom--had suffered a relapse. 

CHAPTER XXIII

AT last the sleepy atmosphere was stirred--and vigorously: the murdertrial came on in the court. It became the absorbing topic of villagetalk immediately. Tom could not get away from it. Every reference tothe murder sent a shudder to his heart, for his troubled conscience andfears almost persuaded him that these remarks were put forth in hishearing as "feelers"; he did not see how he could be suspected ofknowing anything about the murder, but still he could not becomfortable in the midst of this gossip. It kept him in a cold shiverall the time. He took Huck to a lonely place to have a talk with him. It would be some relief to unseal his tongue for a little while; todivide his burden of distress with another sufferer. Moreover, hewanted to assure himself that Huck had remained discreet. 

"Huck, have you ever told anybody about--that?"

"'Bout what?"

"You know what. "

"Oh--'course I haven't. "

"Never a word?"

"Never a solitary word, so help me. What makes you ask?"

"Well, I was afeard. "

"Why, Tom Sawyer, we wouldn't be alive two days if that got found out. YOU know that. "

Tom felt more comfortable. After a pause:

"Huck, they couldn't anybody get you to tell, could they?"

"Get me to tell? Why, if I wanted that half-breed devil to drownd methey could get me to tell. They ain't no different way. "

"Well, that's all right, then. I reckon we're safe as long as we keepmum. But let's swear again, anyway. It's more surer. "

"I'm agreed. "

So they swore again with dread solemnities. 

"What is the talk around, Huck? I've heard a power of it. "

"Talk? Well, it's just Muff Potter, Muff Potter, Muff Potter all thetime. It keeps me in a sweat, constant, so's I want to hide som'ers. "

"That's just the same way they go on round me. I reckon he's a goner. Don't you feel sorry for him, sometimes?"

"Most always--most always. He ain't no account; but then he hain'tever done anything to hurt anybody. Just fishes a little, to get moneyto get drunk on--and loafs around considerable; but lord, we all dothat--leastways most of us--preachers and such like. But he's kind ofgood--he give me half a fish, once, when there warn't enough for two;and lots of times he's kind of stood by me when I was out of luck. "

"Well, he's mended kites for me, Huck, and knitted hooks on to myline. I wish we could get him out of there. "

"My! we couldn't get him out, Tom. And besides, 'twouldn't do anygood; they'd ketch him again. "

"Yes--so they would. But I hate to hear 'em abuse him so like thedickens when he never done--that. "

"I do too, Tom. Lord, I hear 'em say he's the bloodiest lookingvillain in this country, and they wonder he wasn't ever hung before. "

"Yes, they talk like that, all the time. I've heard 'em say that if hewas to get free they'd lynch him. "

"And they'd do it, too. "

The boys had a long talk, but it brought them little comfort. As thetwilight drew on, they found themselves hanging about the neighborhoodof the little isolated jail, perhaps with an undefined hope thatsomething would happen that might clear away their difficulties. Butnothing happened; there seemed to be no angels or fairies interested inthis luckless captive. 

The boys did as they had often done before--went to the cell gratingand gave Potter some tobacco and matches. He was on the ground floorand there were no guards. 

His gratitude for their gifts had always smote their consciencesbefore--it cut deeper than ever, this time. They felt cowardly andtreacherous to the last degree when Potter said:

"You've been mighty good to me, boys--better'n anybody else in thistown. And I don't forget it, I don't. Often I says to myself, says I, 'I used to mend all the boys' kites and things, and show 'em where thegood fishin' places was, and befriend 'em what I could, and now they'veall forgot old Muff when he's in trouble; but Tom don't, and Huckdon't--THEY don't forget him, says I, 'and I don't forget them. ' Well, boys, I done an awful thing--drunk and crazy at the time--that's theonly way I account for it--and now I got to swing for it, and it'sright. Right, and BEST, too, I reckon--hope so, anyway. Well, we won'ttalk about that. I don't want to make YOU feel bad; you've befriendedme. But what I want to say, is, don't YOU ever get drunk--then you won'tever get here. Stand a litter furder west--so--that's it; it's a primecomfort to see faces that's friendly when a body's in such a muck oftrouble, and there don't none come here but yourn. Good friendlyfaces--good friendly faces. Git up on one another's backs and let metouch 'em. That's it. Shake hands--yourn'll come through the bars, butmine's too big. Little hands, and weak--but they've helped Muff Pottera power, and they'd help him more if they could. "

Tom went home miserable, and his dreams that night were full ofhorrors. The next day and the day after, he hung about the court-room, drawn by an almost irresistible impulse to go in, but forcing himselfto stay out. Huck was having the same experience. They studiouslyavoided each other. Each wandered away, from time to time, but the samedismal fascination always brought them back presently. Tom kept hisears open when idlers sauntered out of the court-room, but invariablyheard distressing news--the toils were closing more and morerelentlessly around poor Potter. At the end of the second day thevillage talk was to the effect that Injun Joe's evidence stood firm andunshaken, and that there was not the slightest question as to what thejury's verdict would be. 

Tom was out late, that night, and came to bed through the window. Hewas in a tremendous state of excitement. It was hours before he got tosleep. All the village flocked to the court-house the next morning, forthis was to be the great day. Both sexes were about equally representedin the packed audience. After a long wait the jury filed in and tooktheir places; shortly afterward, Potter, pale and haggard, timid andhopeless, was brought in, with chains upon him, and seated where allthe curious eyes could stare at him; no less conspicuous was Injun Joe, stolid as ever. There was another pause, and then the judge arrived andthe sheriff proclaimed the opening of the court. The usual whisperingsamong the lawyers and gathering together of papers followed. Thesedetails and accompanying delays worked up an atmosphere of preparationthat was as impressive as it was fascinating. 

Now a witness was called who testified that he found Muff Potterwashing in the brook, at an early hour of the morning that the murderwas discovered, and that he immediately sneaked away. After somefurther questioning, counsel for the prosecution said:

"Take the witness. "

The prisoner raised his eyes for a moment, but dropped them again whenhis own counsel said:

"I have no questions to ask him. "

The next witness proved the finding of the knife near the corpse. Counsel for the prosecution said:

"Take the witness. "

"I have no questions to ask him, " Potter's lawyer replied. 

A third witness swore he had often seen the knife in Potter'spossession. 

"Take the witness. "

Counsel for Potter declined to question him. The faces of the audiencebegan to betray annoyance. Did this attorney mean to throw away hisclient's life without an effort?

Several witnesses deposed concerning Potter's guilty behavior whenbrought to the scene of the murder. They were allowed to leave thestand without being cross-questioned. 

Every detail of the damaging circumstances that occurred in thegraveyard upon that morning which all present remembered so well wasbrought out by credible witnesses, but none of them were cross-examinedby Potter's lawyer. The perplexity and dissatisfaction of the houseexpressed itself in murmurs and provoked a reproof from the bench. Counsel for the prosecution now said:

"By the oaths of citizens whose simple word is above suspicion, wehave fastened this awful crime, beyond all possibility of question, upon the unhappy prisoner at the bar. We rest our case here. "

A groan escaped from poor Potter, and he put his face in his hands androcked his body softly to and fro, while a painful silence reigned inthe court-room. Many men were moved, and many women's compassiontestified itself in tears. Counsel for the defence rose and said:

"Your honor, in our remarks at the opening of this trial, weforeshadowed our purpose to prove that our client did this fearful deedwhile under the influence of a blind and irresponsible deliriumproduced by drink. We have changed our mind. We shall not offer thatplea. " [Then to the clerk:] "Call Thomas Sawyer!"

A puzzled amazement awoke in every face in the house, not evenexcepting Potter's. Every eye fastened itself with wondering interestupon Tom as he rose and took his place upon the stand. The boy lookedwild enough, for he was badly scared. The oath was administered. 

"Thomas Sawyer, where were you on the seventeenth of June, about thehour of midnight?"

Tom glanced at Injun Joe's iron face and his tongue failed him. Theaudience listened breathless, but the words refused to come. After afew moments, however, the boy got a little of his strength back, andmanaged to put enough of it into his voice to make part of the househear:

"In the graveyard!"

"A little bit louder, please. Don't be afraid. You were--"

"In the graveyard. "

A contemptuous smile flitted across Injun Joe's face. 

"Were you anywhere near Horse Williams' grave?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Speak up--just a trifle louder. How near were you?"

"Near as I am to you. "

"Were you hidden, or not?"

"I was hid. "

"Where?"

"Behind the elms that's on the edge of the grave. "

Injun Joe gave a barely perceptible start. 

"Any one with you?"

"Yes, sir. I went there with--"

"Wait--wait a moment. Never mind mentioning your companion's name. Wewill produce him at the proper time. Did you carry anything there withyou. "

Tom hesitated and looked confused. 

"Speak out, my boy--don't be diffident. The truth is alwaysrespectable. What did you take there?"

"Only a--a--dead cat. "

There was a ripple of mirth, which the court checked. 

"We will produce the skeleton of that cat. Now, my boy, tell useverything that occurred--tell it in your own way--don't skip anything, and don't be afraid. "

Tom began--hesitatingly at first, but as he warmed to his subject hiswords flowed more and more easily; in a little while every sound ceasedbut his own voice; every eye fixed itself upon him; with parted lipsand bated breath the audience hung upon his words, taking no note oftime, rapt in the ghastly fascinations of the tale. The strain uponpent emotion reached its climax when the boy said:

"--and as the doctor fetched the board around and Muff Potter fell, Injun Joe jumped with the knife and--"

Crash! Quick as lightning the half-breed sprang for a window, tore hisway through all opposers, and was gone!

CHAPTER XXIV

TOM was a glittering hero once more--the pet of the old, the envy ofthe young. His name even went into immortal print, for the villagepaper magnified him. There were some that believed he would bePresident, yet, if he escaped hanging. 

As usual, the fickle, unreasoning world took Muff Potter to its bosomand fondled him as lavishly as it had abused him before. But that sortof conduct is to the world's credit; therefore it is not well to findfault with it. 

Tom's days were days of splendor and exultation to him, but his nightswere seasons of horror. Injun Joe infested all his dreams, and alwayswith doom in his eye. Hardly any temptation could persuade the boy tostir abroad after nightfall. Poor Huck was in the same state ofwretchedness and terror, for Tom had told the whole story to the lawyerthe night before the great day of the trial, and Huck was sore afraidthat his share in the business might leak out, yet, notwithstandingInjun Joe's flight had saved him the suffering of testifying in court. The poor fellow had got the attorney to promise secrecy, but what ofthat? Since Tom's harassed conscience had managed to drive him to thelawyer's house by night and wring a dread tale from lips that had beensealed with the dismalest and most formidable of oaths, Huck'sconfidence in the human race was well-nigh obliterated. 

Daily Muff Potter's gratitude made Tom glad he had spoken; but nightlyhe wished he had sealed up his tongue. 

Half the time Tom was afraid Injun Joe would never be captured; theother half he was afraid he would be. He felt sure he never could drawa safe breath again until that man was dead and he had seen the corpse. 

Rewards had been offered, the country had been scoured, but no InjunJoe was found. One of those omniscient and awe-inspiring marvels, adetective, came up from St. Louis, moused around, shook his head, looked wise, and made that sort of astounding success which members ofthat craft usually achieve. That is to say, he "found a clew. " But youcan't hang a "clew" for murder, and so after that detective had gotthrough and gone home, Tom felt just as insecure as he was before. 

The slow days drifted on, and each left behind it a slightly lightenedweight of apprehension. 

CHAPTER XXV

THERE comes a time in every rightly-constructed boy's life when he hasa raging desire to go somewhere and dig for hidden treasure. Thisdesire suddenly came upon Tom one day. He sallied out to find JoeHarper, but failed of success. Next he sought Ben Rogers; he had gonefishing. Presently he stumbled upon Huck Finn the Red-Handed. Huckwould answer. Tom took him to a private place and opened the matter tohim confidentially. Huck was willing. Huck was always willing to take ahand in any enterprise that offered entertainment and required nocapital, for he had a troublesome superabundance of that sort of timewhich is not money. "Where'll we dig?" said Huck. 

"Oh, most anywhere. "

"Why, is it hid all around?"

"No, indeed it ain't. It's hid in mighty particular places, Huck--sometimes on islands, sometimes in rotten chests under the end of alimb of an old dead tree, just where the shadow falls at midnight; butmostly under the floor in ha'nted houses. "

"Who hides it?"

"Why, robbers, of course--who'd you reckon? Sunday-schoolsup'rintendents?"

"I don't know. If 'twas mine I wouldn't hide it; I'd spend it and havea good time. "

"So would I. But robbers don't do that way. They always hide it andleave it there. "

"Don't they come after it any more?"

"No, they think they will, but they generally forget the marks, orelse they die. Anyway, it lays there a long time and gets rusty; and byand by somebody finds an old yellow paper that tells how to find themarks--a paper that's got to be ciphered over about a week because it'smostly signs and hy'roglyphics. "

"HyroQwhich?"

"Hy'roglyphics--pictures and things, you know, that don't seem to meananything. "

"Have you got one of them papers, Tom?"

"No. "

"Well then, how you going to find the marks?"

"I don't want any marks. They always bury it under a ha'nted house oron an island, or under a dead tree that's got one limb sticking out. Well, we've tried Jackson's Island a little, and we can try it againsome time; and there's the old ha'nted house up the Still-House branch, and there's lots of dead-limb trees--dead loads of 'em. "

"Is it under all of them?"

"How you talk! No!"

"Then how you going to know which one to go for?"

"Go for all of 'em!"

"Why, Tom, it'll take all summer. "

"Well, what of that? Suppose you find a brass pot with a hundreddollars in it, all rusty and gray, or rotten chest full of di'monds. How's that?"

Huck's eyes glowed. 

"That's bully. Plenty bully enough for me. Just you gimme the hundreddollars and I don't want no di'monds. "

"All right. But I bet you I ain't going to throw off on di'monds. Someof 'em's worth twenty dollars apiece--there ain't any, hardly, but'sworth six bits or a dollar. "

"No! Is that so?"

"Cert'nly--anybody'll tell you so. Hain't you ever seen one, Huck?"

"Not as I remember. "

"Oh, kings have slathers of them. "

"Well, I don' know no kings, Tom. "

"I reckon you don't. But if you was to go to Europe you'd see a raftof 'em hopping around. "

"Do they hop?"

"Hop?--your granny! No!"

"Well, what did you say they did, for?"

"Shucks, I only meant you'd SEE 'em--not hopping, of course--what dothey want to hop for?--but I mean you'd just see 'em--scattered around, you know, in a kind of a general way. Like that old humpbacked Richard. "

"Richard? What's his other name?"

"He didn't have any other name. Kings don't have any but a given name. "

"No?"

"But they don't. "

"Well, if they like it, Tom, all right; but I don't want to be a kingand have only just a given name, like a nigger. But say--where yougoing to dig first?"

"Well, I don't know. S'pose we tackle that old dead-limb tree on thehill t'other side of Still-House branch?"

"I'm agreed. "

So they got a crippled pick and a shovel, and set out on theirthree-mile tramp. They arrived hot and panting, and threw themselvesdown in the shade of a neighboring elm to rest and have a smoke. 

"I like this, " said Tom. 

"So do I. "

"Say, Huck, if we find a treasure here, what you going to do with yourshare?"

"Well, I'll have pie and a glass of soda every day, and I'll go toevery circus that comes along. I bet I'll have a gay time. "

"Well, ain't you going to save any of it?"

"Save it? What for?"

"Why, so as to have something to live on, by and by. "

"Oh, that ain't any use. Pap would come back to thish-yer town someday and get his claws on it if I didn't hurry up, and I tell you he'dclean it out pretty quick. What you going to do with yourn, Tom?"

"I'm going to buy a new drum, and a sure-'nough sword, and a rednecktie and a bull pup, and get married. "

"Married!"

"That's it. "

"Tom, you--why, you ain't in your right mind. "

"Wait--you'll see. "

"Well, that's the foolishest thing you could do. Look at pap and mymother. Fight! Why, they used to fight all the time. I remember, mightywell. "

"That ain't anything. The girl I'm going to marry won't fight. "

"Tom, I reckon they're all alike. They'll all comb a body. Now youbetter think 'bout this awhile. I tell you you better. What's the nameof the gal?"

"It ain't a gal at all--it's a girl. "

"It's all the same, I reckon; some says gal, some says girl--both'sright, like enough. Anyway, what's her name, Tom?"

"I'll tell you some time--not now. "

"All right--that'll do. Only if you get married I'll be more lonesomerthan ever. "

"No you won't. You'll come and live with me. Now stir out of this andwe'll go to digging. "

They worked and sweated for half an hour. No result. They toiledanother half-hour. Still no result. Huck said:

"Do they always bury it as deep as this?"

"Sometimes--not always. Not generally. I reckon we haven't got theright place. "

So they chose a new spot and began again. The labor dragged a little, but still they made progress. They pegged away in silence for sometime. Finally Huck leaned on his shovel, swabbed the beaded drops fromhis brow with his sleeve, and said:

"Where you going to dig next, after we get this one?"

"I reckon maybe we'll tackle the old tree that's over yonder onCardiff Hill back of the widow's. "

"I reckon that'll be a good one. But won't the widow take it away fromus, Tom? It's on her land. "

"SHE take it away! Maybe she'd like to try it once. Whoever finds oneof these hid treasures, it belongs to him. It don't make any differencewhose land it's on. "

That was satisfactory. The work went on. By and by Huck said:

"Blame it, we must be in the wrong place again. What do you think?"

"It is mighty curious, Huck. I don't understand it. Sometimes witchesinterfere. I reckon maybe that's what's the trouble now. "

"Shucks! Witches ain't got no power in the daytime. "

"Well, that's so. I didn't think of that. Oh, I know what the matteris! What a blamed lot of fools we are! You got to find out where theshadow of the limb falls at midnight, and that's where you dig!"

"Then consound it, we've fooled away all this work for nothing. Nowhang it all, we got to come back in the night. It's an awful long way. Can you get out?"

"I bet I will. We've got to do it to-night, too, because if somebodysees these holes they'll know in a minute what's here and they'll gofor it. "

"Well, I'll come around and maow to-night. "

"All right. Let's hide the tools in the bushes. "

The boys were there that night, about the appointed time. They sat inthe shadow waiting. It was a lonely place, and an hour made solemn byold traditions. Spirits whispered in the rustling leaves, ghosts lurkedin the murky nooks, the deep baying of a hound floated up out of thedistance, an owl answered with his sepulchral note. The boys weresubdued by these solemnities, and talked little. By and by they judgedthat twelve had come; they marked where the shadow fell, and began todig. Their hopes commenced to rise. Their interest grew stronger, andtheir industry kept pace with it. The hole deepened and still deepened, but every time their hearts jumped to hear the pick strike uponsomething, they only suffered a new disappointment. It was only a stoneor a chunk. At last Tom said:

"It ain't any use, Huck, we're wrong again. "

"Well, but we CAN'T be wrong. We spotted the shadder to a dot. "

"I know it, but then there's another thing. "

"What's that?". 

"Why, we only guessed at the time. Like enough it was too late or tooearly. "

Huck dropped his shovel. 

"That's it, " said he. "That's the very trouble. We got to give thisone up. We can't ever tell the right time, and besides this kind ofthing's too awful, here this time of night with witches and ghostsa-fluttering around so. I feel as if something's behind me all the time;and I'm afeard to turn around, becuz maybe there's others in fronta-waiting for a chance. I been creeping all over, ever since I got here. "

"Well, I've been pretty much so, too, Huck. They most always put in adead man when they bury a treasure under a tree, to look out for it. "

"Lordy!"

"Yes, they do. I've always heard that. "

"Tom, I don't like to fool around much where there's dead people. Abody's bound to get into trouble with 'em, sure. "

"I don't like to stir 'em up, either. S'pose this one here was tostick his skull out and say something!"

"Don't Tom! It's awful. "

"Well, it just is. Huck, I don't feel comfortable a bit. "

"Say, Tom, let's give this place up, and try somewheres else. "

"All right, I reckon we better. "

"What'll it be?"

Tom considered awhile; and then said:

"The ha'nted house. That's it!"

"Blame it, I don't like ha'nted houses, Tom. Why, they're a dern sightworse'n dead people. Dead people might talk, maybe, but they don't comesliding around in a shroud, when you ain't noticing, and peep over yourshoulder all of a sudden and grit their teeth, the way a ghost does. Icouldn't stand such a thing as that, Tom--nobody could. "

"Yes, but, Huck, ghosts don't travel around only at night. They won'thender us from digging there in the daytime. "

"Well, that's so. But you know mighty well people don't go about thatha'nted house in the day nor the night. "

"Well, that's mostly because they don't like to go where a man's beenmurdered, anyway--but nothing's ever been seen around that house exceptin the night--just some blue lights slipping by the windows--no regularghosts. "

"Well, where you see one of them blue lights flickering around, Tom, you can bet there's a ghost mighty close behind it. It stands toreason. Becuz you know that they don't anybody but ghosts use 'em. "

"Yes, that's so. But anyway they don't come around in the daytime, sowhat's the use of our being afeard?"

"Well, all right. We'll tackle the ha'nted house if you say so--but Ireckon it's taking chances. "

They had started down the hill by this time. There in the middle ofthe moonlit valley below them stood the "ha'nted" house, utterlyisolated, its fences gone long ago, rank weeds smothering the verydoorsteps, the chimney crumbled to ruin, the window-sashes vacant, acorner of the roof caved in. The boys gazed awhile, half expecting tosee a blue light flit past a window; then talking in a low tone, asbefitted the time and the circumstances, they struck far off to theright, to give the haunted house a wide berth, and took their wayhomeward through the woods that adorned the rearward side of CardiffHill. 

CHAPTER XXVI

ABOUT noon the next day the boys arrived at the dead tree; they hadcome for their tools. Tom was impatient to go to the haunted house;Huck was measurably so, also--but suddenly said:

"Lookyhere, Tom, do you know what day it is?"

Tom mentally ran over the days of the week, and then quickly liftedhis eyes with a startled look in them--

"My! I never once thought of it, Huck!"

"Well, I didn't neither, but all at once it popped onto me that it wasFriday. "

"Blame it, a body can't be too careful, Huck. We might 'a' got into anawful scrape, tackling such a thing on a Friday. "

"MIGHT! Better say we WOULD! There's some lucky days, maybe, butFriday ain't. "

"Any fool knows that. I don't reckon YOU was the first that found itout, Huck. "

"Well, I never said I was, did I? And Friday ain't all, neither. I hada rotten bad dream last night--dreampt about rats. "

"No! Sure sign of trouble. Did they fight?"

"No. "

"Well, that's good, Huck. When they don't fight it's only a sign thatthere's trouble around, you know. All we got to do is to look mightysharp and keep out of it. We'll drop this thing for to-day, and play. Do you know Robin Hood, Huck?"

"No. Who's Robin Hood?"

"Why, he was one of the greatest men that was ever in England--and thebest. He was a robber. "

"Cracky, I wisht I was. Who did he rob?"

"Only sheriffs and bishops and rich people and kings, and such like. But he never bothered the poor. He loved 'em. He always divided up with'em perfectly square. "

"Well, he must 'a' been a brick. "

"I bet you he was, Huck. Oh, he was the noblest man that ever was. They ain't any such men now, I can tell you. He could lick any man inEngland, with one hand tied behind him; and he could take his yew bowand plug a ten-cent piece every time, a mile and a half. "

"What's a YEW bow?"

"I don't know. It's some kind of a bow, of course. And if he hit thatdime only on the edge he would set down and cry--and curse. But we'llplay Robin Hood--it's nobby fun. I'll learn you. "

"I'm agreed. "

So they played Robin Hood all the afternoon, now and then casting ayearning eye down upon the haunted house and passing a remark about themorrow's prospects and possibilities there. As the sun began to sinkinto the west they took their way homeward athwart the long shadows ofthe trees and soon were buried from sight in the forests of CardiffHill. 

On Saturday, shortly after noon, the boys were at the dead tree again. They had a smoke and a chat in the shade, and then dug a little intheir last hole, not with great hope, but merely because Tom said therewere so many cases where people had given up a treasure after gettingdown within six inches of it, and then somebody else had come along andturned it up with a single thrust of a shovel. The thing failed thistime, however, so the boys shouldered their tools and went away feelingthat they had not trifled with fortune, but had fulfilled all therequirements that belong to the business of treasure-hunting. 

When they reached the haunted house there was something so weird andgrisly about the dead silence that reigned there under the baking sun, and something so depressing about the loneliness and desolation of theplace, that they were afraid, for a moment, to venture in. Then theycrept to the door and took a trembling peep. They saw a weed-grown, floorless room, unplastered, an ancient fireplace, vacant windows, aruinous staircase; and here, there, and everywhere hung ragged andabandoned cobwebs. They presently entered, softly, with quickenedpulses, talking in whispers, ears alert to catch the slightest sound, and muscles tense and ready for instant retreat. 

In a little while familiarity modified their fears and they gave theplace a critical and interested examination, rather admiring their ownboldness, and wondering at it, too. Next they wanted to look up-stairs. This was something like cutting off retreat, but they got to daringeach other, and of course there could be but one result--they threwtheir tools into a corner and made the ascent. Up there were the samesigns of decay. In one corner they found a closet that promisedmystery, but the promise was a fraud--there was nothing in it. Theircourage was up now and well in hand. They were about to go down andbegin work when--

"Sh!" said Tom. 

"What is it?" whispered Huck, blanching with fright. 

"Sh!. .. There!. .. Hear it?"

"Yes!. .. Oh, my! Let's run!"

"Keep still! Don't you budge! They're coming right toward the door. "

The boys stretched themselves upon the floor with their eyes toknot-holes in the planking, and lay waiting, in a misery of fear. 

"They've stopped. .. . No--coming. .. . Here they are. Don't whisperanother word, Huck. My goodness, I wish I was out of this!"

Two men entered. Each boy said to himself: "There's the old deaf anddumb Spaniard that's been about town once or twice lately--never sawt'other man before. "

"T'other" was a ragged, unkempt creature, with nothing very pleasantin his face. The Spaniard was wrapped in a serape; he had bushy whitewhiskers; long white hair flowed from under his sombrero, and he woregreen goggles. When they came in, "t'other" was talking in a low voice;they sat down on the ground, facing the door, with their backs to thewall, and the speaker continued his remarks. His manner became lessguarded and his words more distinct as he proceeded:

"No, " said he, "I've thought it all over, and I don't like it. It'sdangerous. "

"Dangerous!" grunted the "deaf and dumb" Spaniard--to the vastsurprise of the boys. "Milksop!"

This voice made the boys gasp and quake. It was Injun Joe's! There wassilence for some time. Then Joe said:

"What's any more dangerous than that job up yonder--but nothing's comeof it. "

"That's different. Away up the river so, and not another house about. 'Twon't ever be known that we tried, anyway, long as we didn't succeed. "

"Well, what's more dangerous than coming here in the daytime!--anybodywould suspicion us that saw us. "

"I know that. But there warn't any other place as handy after thatfool of a job. I want to quit this shanty. I wanted to yesterday, onlyit warn't any use trying to stir out of here, with those infernal boysplaying over there on the hill right in full view. "

"Those infernal boys" quaked again under the inspiration of thisremark, and thought how lucky it was that they had remembered it wasFriday and concluded to wait a day. They wished in their hearts theyhad waited a year. 

The two men got out some food and made a luncheon. After a long andthoughtful silence, Injun Joe said:

"Look here, lad--you go back up the river where you belong. Wait theretill you hear from me. I'll take the chances on dropping into this townjust once more, for a look. We'll do that 'dangerous' job after I'vespied around a little and think things look well for it. Then forTexas! We'll leg it together!"

This was satisfactory. Both men presently fell to yawning, and InjunJoe said:

"I'm dead for sleep! It's your turn to watch. "

He curled down in the weeds and soon began to snore. His comradestirred him once or twice and he became quiet. Presently the watcherbegan to nod; his head drooped lower and lower, both men began to snorenow. 

The boys drew a long, grateful breath. Tom whispered:

"Now's our chance--come!"

Huck said:

"I can't--I'd die if they was to wake. "

Tom urged--Huck held back. At last Tom rose slowly and softly, andstarted alone. But the first step he made wrung such a hideous creakfrom the crazy floor that he sank down almost dead with fright. Henever made a second attempt. The boys lay there counting the draggingmoments till it seemed to them that time must be done and eternitygrowing gray; and then they were grateful to note that at last the sunwas setting. 

Now one snore ceased. Injun Joe sat up, stared around--smiled grimlyupon his comrade, whose head was drooping upon his knees--stirred himup with his foot and said:

"Here! YOU'RE a watchman, ain't you! All right, though--nothing'shappened. "

"My! have I been asleep?"

"Oh, partly, partly. Nearly time for us to be moving, pard. What'll wedo with what little swag we've got left?"

"I don't know--leave it here as we've always done, I reckon. No use totake it away till we start south. Six hundred and fifty in silver'ssomething to carry. "

"Well--all right--it won't matter to come here once more. "

"No--but I'd say come in the night as we used to do--it's better. "

"Yes: but look here; it may be a good while before I get the rightchance at that job; accidents might happen; 'tain't in such a very goodplace; we'll just regularly bury it--and bury it deep. "

"Good idea, " said the comrade, who walked across the room, knelt down, raised one of the rearward hearth-stones and took out a bag thatjingled pleasantly. He subtracted from it twenty or thirty dollars forhimself and as much for Injun Joe, and passed the bag to the latter, who was on his knees in the corner, now, digging with his bowie-knife. 

The boys forgot all their fears, all their miseries in an instant. With gloating eyes they watched every movement. Luck!--the splendor ofit was beyond all imagination! Six hundred dollars was money enough tomake half a dozen boys rich! Here was treasure-hunting under thehappiest auspices--there would not be any bothersome uncertainty as towhere to dig. They nudged each other every moment--eloquent nudges andeasily understood, for they simply meant--"Oh, but ain't you glad NOWwe're here!"

Joe's knife struck upon something. 

"Hello!" said he. 

"What is it?" said his comrade. 

"Half-rotten plank--no, it's a box, I believe. Here--bear a hand andwe'll see what it's here for. Never mind, I've broke a hole. "

He reached his hand in and drew it out--

"Man, it's money!"

The two men examined the handful of coins. They were gold. The boysabove were as excited as themselves, and as delighted. 

Joe's comrade said:

"We'll make quick work of this. There's an old rusty pick over amongstthe weeds in the corner the other side of the fireplace--I saw it aminute ago. "

He ran and brought the boys' pick and shovel. Injun Joe took the pick, looked it over critically, shook his head, muttered something tohimself, and then began to use it. The box was soon unearthed. It wasnot very large; it was iron bound and had been very strong before theslow years had injured it. The men contemplated the treasure awhile inblissful silence. 

"Pard, there's thousands of dollars here, " said Injun Joe. 

"'Twas always said that Murrel's gang used to be around here onesummer, " the stranger observed. 

"I know it, " said Injun Joe; "and this looks like it, I should say. "

"Now you won't need to do that job. "

The half-breed frowned. Said he:

"You don't know me. Least you don't know all about that thing. 'Tain'trobbery altogether--it's REVENGE!" and a wicked light flamed in hiseyes. "I'll need your help in it. When it's finished--then Texas. Gohome to your Nance and your kids, and stand by till you hear from me. "

"Well--if you say so; what'll we do with this--bury it again?"

"Yes. [Ravishing delight overhead. ] NO! by the great Sachem, no![Profound distress overhead. ] I'd nearly forgot. That pick had freshearth on it! [The boys were sick with terror in a moment. ] Whatbusiness has a pick and a shovel here? What business with fresh earthon them? Who brought them here--and where are they gone? Have you heardanybody?--seen anybody? What! bury it again and leave them to come andsee the ground disturbed? Not exactly--not exactly. We'll take it to myden. "

"Why, of course! Might have thought of that before. You mean NumberOne?"

"No--Number Two--under the cross. The other place is bad--too common. "

"All right. It's nearly dark enough to start. "

Injun Joe got up and went about from window to window cautiouslypeeping out. Presently he said:

"Who could have brought those tools here? Do you reckon they can beup-stairs?"

The boys' breath forsook them. Injun Joe put his hand on his knife, halted a moment, undecided, and then turned toward the stairway. Theboys thought of the closet, but their strength was gone. The steps camecreaking up the stairs--the intolerable distress of the situation wokethe stricken resolution of the lads--they were about to spring for thecloset, when there was a crash of rotten timbers and Injun Joe landedon the ground amid the debris of the ruined stairway. He gatheredhimself up cursing, and his comrade said:

"Now what's the use of all that? If it's anybody, and they're upthere, let them STAY there--who cares? If they want to jump down, now, and get into trouble, who objects? It will be dark in fifteen minutes--and then let them follow us if they want to. I'm willing. In myopinion, whoever hove those things in here caught a sight of us andtook us for ghosts or devils or something. I'll bet they're runningyet. "

Joe grumbled awhile; then he agreed with his friend that what daylightwas left ought to be economized in getting things ready for leaving. Shortly afterward they slipped out of the house in the deepeningtwilight, and moved toward the river with their precious box. 

Tom and Huck rose up, weak but vastly relieved, and stared after themthrough the chinks between the logs of the house. Follow? Not they. They were content to reach ground again without broken necks, and takethe townward track over the hill. They did not talk much. They were toomuch absorbed in hating themselves--hating the ill luck that made themtake the spade and the pick there. But for that, Injun Joe never wouldhave suspected. He would have hidden the silver with the gold to waitthere till his "revenge" was satisfied, and then he would have had themisfortune to find that money turn up missing. Bitter, bitter luck thatthe tools were ever brought there!

They resolved to keep a lookout for that Spaniard when he should cometo town spying out for chances to do his revengeful job, and follow himto "Number Two, " wherever that might be. Then a ghastly thoughtoccurred to Tom. 

"Revenge? What if he means US, Huck!"

"Oh, don't!" said Huck, nearly fainting. 

They talked it all over, and as they entered town they agreed tobelieve that he might possibly mean somebody else--at least that hemight at least mean nobody but Tom, since only Tom had testified. 

Very, very small comfort it was to Tom to be alone in danger! Companywould be a palpable improvement, he thought. 

CHAPTER XXVII

THE adventure of the day mightily tormented Tom's dreams that night. Four times he had his hands on that rich treasure and four times itwasted to nothingness in his fingers as sleep forsook him andwakefulness brought back the hard reality of his misfortune. As he layin the early morning recalling the incidents of his great adventure, henoticed that they seemed curiously subdued and far away--somewhat as ifthey had happened in another world, or in a time long gone by. Then itoccurred to him that the great adventure itself must be a dream! Therewas one very strong argument in favor of this idea--namely, that thequantity of coin he had seen was too vast to be real. He had never seenas much as fifty dollars in one mass before, and he was like all boysof his age and station in life, in that he imagined that all referencesto "hundreds" and "thousands" were mere fanciful forms of speech, andthat no such sums really existed in the world. He never had supposedfor a moment that so large a sum as a hundred dollars was to be foundin actual money in any one's possession. If his notions of hiddentreasure had been analyzed, they would have been found to consist of ahandful of real dimes and a bushel of vague, splendid, ungraspabledollars. 

But the incidents of his adventure grew sensibly sharper and clearerunder the attrition of thinking them over, and so he presently foundhimself leaning to the impression that the thing might not have been adream, after all. This uncertainty must be swept away. He would snatcha hurried breakfast and go and find Huck. Huck was sitting on thegunwale of a flatboat, listlessly dangling his feet in the water andlooking very melancholy. Tom concluded to let Huck lead up to thesubject. If he did not do it, then the adventure would be proved tohave been only a dream. 

"Hello, Huck!"

"Hello, yourself. "

Silence, for a minute. 

"Tom, if we'd 'a' left the blame tools at the dead tree, we'd 'a' gotthe money. Oh, ain't it awful!"

"'Tain't a dream, then, 'tain't a dream! Somehow I most wish it was. Dog'd if I don't, Huck. "

"What ain't a dream?"

"Oh, that thing yesterday. I been half thinking it was. "

"Dream! If them stairs hadn't broke down you'd 'a' seen how much dreamit was! I've had dreams enough all night--with that patch-eyed Spanishdevil going for me all through 'em--rot him!"

"No, not rot him. FIND him! Track the money!"

"Tom, we'll never find him. A feller don't have only one chance forsuch a pile--and that one's lost. I'd feel mighty shaky if I was to seehim, anyway. "

"Well, so'd I; but I'd like to see him, anyway--and track him out--tohis Number Two. "

"Number Two--yes, that's it. I been thinking 'bout that. But I can'tmake nothing out of it. What do you reckon it is?"

"I dono. It's too deep. Say, Huck--maybe it's the number of a house!"

"Goody!. .. No, Tom, that ain't it. If it is, it ain't in thisone-horse town. They ain't no numbers here. "

"Well, that's so. Lemme think a minute. Here--it's the number of aroom--in a tavern, you know!"

"Oh, that's the trick! They ain't only two taverns. We can find outquick. "

"You stay here, Huck, till I come. "

Tom was off at once. He did not care to have Huck's company in publicplaces. He was gone half an hour. He found that in the best tavern, No. 2 had long been occupied by a young lawyer, and was still so occupied. In the less ostentatious house, No. 2 was a mystery. Thetavern-keeper's young son said it was kept locked all the time, and henever saw anybody go into it or come out of it except at night; he didnot know any particular reason for this state of things; had had somelittle curiosity, but it was rather feeble; had made the most of themystery by entertaining himself with the idea that that room was"ha'nted"; had noticed that there was a light in there the night before. 

"That's what I've found out, Huck. I reckon that's the very No. 2we're after. "

"I reckon it is, Tom. Now what you going to do?"

"Lemme think. "

Tom thought a long time. Then he said:

"I'll tell you. The back door of that No. 2 is the door that comes outinto that little close alley between the tavern and the old rattle trapof a brick store. Now you get hold of all the door-keys you can find, and I'll nip all of auntie's, and the first dark night we'll go thereand try 'em. And mind you, keep a lookout for Injun Joe, because hesaid he was going to drop into town and spy around once more for achance to get his revenge. If you see him, you just follow him; and ifhe don't go to that No. 2, that ain't the place. "

"Lordy, I don't want to foller him by myself!"

"Why, it'll be night, sure. He mightn't ever see you--and if he did, maybe he'd never think anything. "

"Well, if it's pretty dark I reckon I'll track him. I dono--I dono. I'll try. "

"You bet I'll follow him, if it's dark, Huck. Why, he might 'a' foundout he couldn't get his revenge, and be going right after that money. "

"It's so, Tom, it's so. I'll foller him; I will, by jingoes!"

"Now you're TALKING! Don't you ever weaken, Huck, and I won't. "

CHAPTER XXVIII

THAT night Tom and Huck were ready for their adventure. They hungabout the neighborhood of the tavern until after nine, one watching thealley at a distance and the other the tavern door. Nobody entered thealley or left it; nobody resembling the Spaniard entered or left thetavern door. The night promised to be a fair one; so Tom went home withthe understanding that if a considerable degree of darkness came on, Huck was to come and "maow, " whereupon he would slip out and try thekeys. But the night remained clear, and Huck closed his watch andretired to bed in an empty sugar hogshead about twelve. 

Tuesday the boys had the same ill luck. Also Wednesday. But Thursdaynight promised better. Tom slipped out in good season with his aunt'sold tin lantern, and a large towel to blindfold it with. He hid thelantern in Huck's sugar hogshead and the watch began. An hour beforemidnight the tavern closed up and its lights (the only onesthereabouts) were put out. No Spaniard had been seen. Nobody hadentered or left the alley. Everything was auspicious. The blackness ofdarkness reigned, the perfect stillness was interrupted only byoccasional mutterings of distant thunder. 

Tom got his lantern, lit it in the hogshead, wrapped it closely in thetowel, and the two adventurers crept in the gloom toward the tavern. Huck stood sentry and Tom felt his way into the alley. Then there was aseason of waiting anxiety that weighed upon Huck's spirits like amountain. He began to wish he could see a flash from the lantern--itwould frighten him, but it would at least tell him that Tom was aliveyet. It seemed hours since Tom had disappeared. Surely he must havefainted; maybe he was dead; maybe his heart had burst under terror andexcitement. In his uneasiness Huck found himself drawing closer andcloser to the alley; fearing all sorts of dreadful things, andmomentarily expecting some catastrophe to happen that would take awayhis breath. There was not much to take away, for he seemed only able toinhale it by thimblefuls, and his heart would soon wear itself out, theway it was beating. Suddenly there was a flash of light and Tom cametearing by him: "Run!" said he; "run, for your life!"

He needn't have repeated it; once was enough; Huck was making thirtyor forty miles an hour before the repetition was uttered. The boysnever stopped till they reached the shed of a deserted slaughter-houseat the lower end of the village. Just as they got within its shelterthe storm burst and the rain poured down. As soon as Tom got his breathhe said:

"Huck, it was awful! I tried two of the keys, just as soft as I could;but they seemed to make such a power of racket that I couldn't hardlyget my breath I was so scared. They wouldn't turn in the lock, either. Well, without noticing what I was doing, I took hold of the knob, andopen comes the door! It warn't locked! I hopped in, and shook off thetowel, and, GREAT CAESAR'S GHOST!"

"What!--what'd you see, Tom?"

"Huck, I most stepped onto Injun Joe's hand!"

"No!"

"Yes! He was lying there, sound asleep on the floor, with his oldpatch on his eye and his arms spread out. "

"Lordy, what did you do? Did he wake up?"

"No, never budged. Drunk, I reckon. I just grabbed that towel andstarted!"

"I'd never 'a' thought of the towel, I bet!"

"Well, I would. My aunt would make me mighty sick if I lost it. "

"Say, Tom, did you see that box?"

"Huck, I didn't wait to look around. I didn't see the box, I didn'tsee the cross. I didn't see anything but a bottle and a tin cup on thefloor by Injun Joe; yes, I saw two barrels and lots more bottles in theroom. Don't you see, now, what's the matter with that ha'nted room?"

"How?"

"Why, it's ha'nted with whiskey! Maybe ALL the Temperance Taverns havegot a ha'nted room, hey, Huck?"

"Well, I reckon maybe that's so. Who'd 'a' thought such a thing? Butsay, Tom, now's a mighty good time to get that box, if Injun Joe'sdrunk. "

"It is, that! You try it!"

Huck shuddered. 

"Well, no--I reckon not. "

"And I reckon not, Huck. Only one bottle alongside of Injun Joe ain'tenough. If there'd been three, he'd be drunk enough and I'd do it. "

There was a long pause for reflection, and then Tom said:

"Lookyhere, Huck, less not try that thing any more till we know InjunJoe's not in there. It's too scary. Now, if we watch every night, we'llbe dead sure to see him go out, some time or other, and then we'llsnatch that box quicker'n lightning. "

"Well, I'm agreed. I'll watch the whole night long, and I'll do itevery night, too, if you'll do the other part of the job. "

"All right, I will. All you got to do is to trot up Hooper Street ablock and maow--and if I'm asleep, you throw some gravel at the windowand that'll fetch me. "

"Agreed, and good as wheat!"

"Now, Huck, the storm's over, and I'll go home. It'll begin to bedaylight in a couple of hours. You go back and watch that long, willyou?"

"I said I would, Tom, and I will. I'll ha'nt that tavern every nightfor a year! I'll sleep all day and I'll stand watch all night. "

"That's all right. Now, where you going to sleep?"

"In Ben Rogers' hayloft. He lets me, and so does his pap's nigger man, Uncle Jake. I tote water for Uncle Jake whenever he wants me to, andany time I ask him he gives me a little something to eat if he canspare it. That's a mighty good nigger, Tom. He likes me, becuz I don'tever act as if I was above him. Sometime I've set right down and eatWITH him. But you needn't tell that. A body's got to do things whenhe's awful hungry he wouldn't want to do as a steady thing. "

"Well, if I don't want you in the daytime, I'll let you sleep. I won'tcome bothering around. Any time you see something's up, in the night, just skip right around and maow. "

CHAPTER XXIX

THE first thing Tom heard on Friday morning was a glad piece of news--Judge Thatcher's family had come back to town the night before. BothInjun Joe and the treasure sunk into secondary importance for a moment, and Becky took the chief place in the boy's interest. He saw her andthey had an exhausting good time playing "hi-spy" and "gully-keeper"with a crowd of their school-mates. The day was completed and crownedin a peculiarly satisfactory way: Becky teased her mother to appointthe next day for the long-promised and long-delayed picnic, and sheconsented. The child's delight was boundless; and Tom's not moremoderate. The invitations were sent out before sunset, and straightwaythe young folks of the village were thrown into a fever of preparationand pleasurable anticipation. Tom's excitement enabled him to keepawake until a pretty late hour, and he had good hopes of hearing Huck's"maow, " and of having his treasure to astonish Becky and the picnickerswith, next day; but he was disappointed. No signal came that night. 

Morning came, eventually, and by ten or eleven o'clock a giddy androllicking company were gathered at Judge Thatcher's, and everythingwas ready for a start. It was not the custom for elderly people to marthe picnics with their presence. The children were considered safeenough under the wings of a few young ladies of eighteen and a fewyoung gentlemen of twenty-three or thereabouts. The old steam ferryboatwas chartered for the occasion; presently the gay throng filed up themain street laden with provision-baskets. Sid was sick and had to missthe fun; Mary remained at home to entertain him. The last thing Mrs. Thatcher said to Becky, was:

"You'll not get back till late. Perhaps you'd better stay all nightwith some of the girls that live near the ferry-landing, child. "

"Then I'll stay with Susy Harper, mamma. "

"Very well. And mind and behave yourself and don't be any trouble. "

Presently, as they tripped along, Tom said to Becky:

"Say--I'll tell you what we'll do. 'Stead of going to Joe Harper'swe'll climb right up the hill and stop at the Widow Douglas'. She'llhave ice-cream! She has it most every day--dead loads of it. And she'llbe awful glad to have us. "

"Oh, that will be fun!"

Then Becky reflected a moment and said:

"But what will mamma say?"

"How'll she ever know?"

The girl turned the idea over in her mind, and said reluctantly:

"I reckon it's wrong--but--"

"But shucks! Your mother won't know, and so what's the harm? All shewants is that you'll be safe; and I bet you she'd 'a' said go there ifshe'd 'a' thought of it. I know she would!"

The Widow Douglas' splendid hospitality was a tempting bait. It andTom's persuasions presently carried the day. So it was decided to saynothing anybody about the night's programme. Presently it occurred toTom that maybe Huck might come this very night and give the signal. Thethought took a deal of the spirit out of his anticipations. Still hecould not bear to give up the fun at Widow Douglas'. And why should hegive it up, he reasoned--the signal did not come the night before, sowhy should it be any more likely to come to-night? The sure fun of theevening outweighed the uncertain treasure; and, boy-like, he determinedto yield to the stronger inclination and not allow himself to think ofthe box of money another time that day. 

Three miles below town the ferryboat stopped at the mouth of a woodyhollow and tied up. The crowd swarmed ashore and soon the forestdistances and craggy heights echoed far and near with shoutings andlaughter. All the different ways of getting hot and tired were gonethrough with, and by-and-by the rovers straggled back to camp fortifiedwith responsible appetites, and then the destruction of the good thingsbegan. After the feast there was a refreshing season of rest and chatin the shade of spreading oaks. By-and-by somebody shouted:

"Who's ready for the cave?"

Everybody was. Bundles of candles were procured, and straightway therewas a general scamper up the hill. The mouth of the cave was up thehillside--an opening shaped like a letter A. Its massive oaken doorstood unbarred. Within was a small chamber, chilly as an ice-house, andwalled by Nature with solid limestone that was dewy with a cold sweat. It was romantic and mysterious to stand here in the deep gloom and lookout upon the green valley shining in the sun. But the impressiveness ofthe situation quickly wore off, and the romping began again. The momenta candle was lighted there was a general rush upon the owner of it; astruggle and a gallant defence followed, but the candle was soonknocked down or blown out, and then there was a glad clamor of laughterand a new chase. But all things have an end. By-and-by the processionwent filing down the steep descent of the main avenue, the flickeringrank of lights dimly revealing the lofty walls of rock almost to theirpoint of junction sixty feet overhead. This main avenue was not morethan eight or ten feet wide. Every few steps other lofty and stillnarrower crevices branched from it on either hand--for McDougal's cavewas but a vast labyrinth of crooked aisles that ran into each other andout again and led nowhere. It was said that one might wander days andnights together through its intricate tangle of rifts and chasms, andnever find the end of the cave; and that he might go down, and down, and still down, into the earth, and it was just the same--labyrinthunder labyrinth, and no end to any of them. No man "knew" the cave. That was an impossible thing. Most of the young men knew a portion ofit, and it was not customary to venture much beyond this known portion. Tom Sawyer knew as much of the cave as any one. 

The procession moved along the main avenue some three-quarters of amile, and then groups and couples began to slip aside into branchavenues, fly along the dismal corridors, and take each other bysurprise at points where the corridors joined again. Parties were ableto elude each other for the space of half an hour without going beyondthe "known" ground. 

By-and-by, one group after another came straggling back to the mouthof the cave, panting, hilarious, smeared from head to foot with tallowdrippings, daubed with clay, and entirely delighted with the success ofthe day. Then they were astonished to find that they had been taking nonote of time and that night was about at hand. The clanging bell hadbeen calling for half an hour. However, this sort of close to the day'sadventures was romantic and therefore satisfactory. When the ferryboatwith her wild freight pushed into the stream, nobody cared sixpence forthe wasted time but the captain of the craft. 

Huck was already upon his watch when the ferryboat's lights wentglinting past the wharf. He heard no noise on board, for the youngpeople were as subdued and still as people usually are who are nearlytired to death. He wondered what boat it was, and why she did not stopat the wharf--and then he dropped her out of his mind and put hisattention upon his business. The night was growing cloudy and dark. Teno'clock came, and the noise of vehicles ceased, scattered lights beganto wink out, all straggling foot-passengers disappeared, the villagebetook itself to its slumbers and left the small watcher alone with thesilence and the ghosts. Eleven o'clock came, and the tavern lights wereput out; darkness everywhere, now. Huck waited what seemed a weary longtime, but nothing happened. His faith was weakening. Was there any use?Was there really any use? Why not give it up and turn in?

A noise fell upon his ear. He was all attention in an instant. Thealley door closed softly. He sprang to the corner of the brick store. The next moment two men brushed by him, and one seemed to havesomething under his arm. It must be that box! So they were going toremove the treasure. Why call Tom now? It would be absurd--the menwould get away with the box and never be found again. No, he wouldstick to their wake and follow them; he would trust to the darkness forsecurity from discovery. So communing with himself, Huck stepped outand glided along behind the men, cat-like, with bare feet, allowingthem to keep just far enough ahead not to be invisible. 

They moved up the river street three blocks, then turned to the leftup a cross-street. They went straight ahead, then, until they came tothe path that led up Cardiff Hill; this they took. They passed by theold Welshman's house, half-way up the hill, without hesitating, andstill climbed upward. Good, thought Huck, they will bury it in the oldquarry. But they never stopped at the quarry. They passed on, up thesummit. They plunged into the narrow path between the tall sumachbushes, and were at once hidden in the gloom. Huck closed up andshortened his distance, now, for they would never be able to see him. He trotted along awhile; then slackened his pace, fearing he wasgaining too fast; moved on a piece, then stopped altogether; listened;no sound; none, save that he seemed to hear the beating of his ownheart. The hooting of an owl came over the hill--ominous sound! But nofootsteps. Heavens, was everything lost! He was about to spring withwinged feet, when a man cleared his throat not four feet from him!Huck's heart shot into his throat, but he swallowed it again; and thenhe stood there shaking as if a dozen agues had taken charge of him atonce, and so weak that he thought he must surely fall to the ground. Heknew where he was. He knew he was within five steps of the stileleading into Widow Douglas' grounds. Very well, he thought, let thembury it there; it won't be hard to find. 

Now there was a voice--a very low voice--Injun Joe's:

"Damn her, maybe she's got company--there's lights, late as it is. "

"I can't see any. "

This was that stranger's voice--the stranger of the haunted house. Adeadly chill went to Huck's heart--this, then, was the "revenge" job!His thought was, to fly. Then he remembered that the Widow Douglas hadbeen kind to him more than once, and maybe these men were going tomurder her. He wished he dared venture to warn her; but he knew hedidn't dare--they might come and catch him. He thought all this andmore in the moment that elapsed between the stranger's remark and InjunJoe's next--which was--

"Because the bush is in your way. Now--this way--now you see, don'tyou?"

"Yes. Well, there IS company there, I reckon. Better give it up. "

"Give it up, and I just leaving this country forever! Give it up andmaybe never have another chance. I tell you again, as I've told youbefore, I don't care for her swag--you may have it. But her husband wasrough on me--many times he was rough on me--and mainly he was thejustice of the peace that jugged me for a vagrant. And that ain't all. It ain't a millionth part of it! He had me HORSEWHIPPED!--horsewhippedin front of the jail, like a nigger!--with all the town looking on!HORSEWHIPPED!--do you understand? He took advantage of me and died. ButI'll take it out of HER. "

"Oh, don't kill her! Don't do that!"

"Kill? Who said anything about killing? I would kill HIM if he washere; but not her. When you want to get revenge on a woman you don'tkill her--bosh! you go for her looks. You slit her nostrils--you notchher ears like a sow!"

"By God, that's--"

"Keep your opinion to yourself! It will be safest for you. I'll tieher to the bed. If she bleeds to death, is that my fault? I'll not cry, if she does. My friend, you'll help me in this thing--for MY sake--that's why you're here--I mightn't be able alone. If you flinch, I'llkill you. Do you understand that? And if I have to kill you, I'll killher--and then I reckon nobody'll ever know much about who done thisbusiness. "

"Well, if it's got to be done, let's get at it. The quicker thebetter--I'm all in a shiver. "

"Do it NOW? And company there? Look here--I'll get suspicious of you, first thing you know. No--we'll wait till the lights are out--there'sno hurry. "

Huck felt that a silence was going to ensue--a thing still more awfulthan any amount of murderous talk; so he held his breath and steppedgingerly back; planted his foot carefully and firmly, after balancing, one-legged, in a precarious way and almost toppling over, first on oneside and then on the other. He took another step back, with the sameelaboration and the same risks; then another and another, and--a twigsnapped under his foot! His breath stopped and he listened. There wasno sound--the stillness was perfect. His gratitude was measureless. Nowhe turned in his tracks, between the walls of sumach bushes--turnedhimself as carefully as if he were a ship--and then stepped quickly butcautiously along. When he emerged at the quarry he felt secure, and sohe picked up his nimble heels and flew. Down, down he sped, till hereached the Welshman's. He banged at the door, and presently the headsof the old man and his two stalwart sons were thrust from windows. 

"What's the row there? Who's banging? What do you want?"

"Let me in--quick! I'll tell everything. "

"Why, who are you?"

"Huckleberry Finn--quick, let me in!"

"Huckleberry Finn, indeed! It ain't a name to open many doors, Ijudge! But let him in, lads, and let's see what's the trouble. "

"Please don't ever tell I told you, " were Huck's first words when hegot in. "Please don't--I'd be killed, sure--but the widow's been goodfriends to me sometimes, and I want to tell--I WILL tell if you'llpromise you won't ever say it was me. "

"By George, he HAS got something to tell, or he wouldn't act so!"exclaimed the old man; "out with it and nobody here'll ever tell, lad. "

Three minutes later the old man and his sons, well armed, were up thehill, and just entering the sumach path on tiptoe, their weapons intheir hands. Huck accompanied them no further. He hid behind a greatbowlder and fell to listening. There was a lagging, anxious silence, and then all of a sudden there was an explosion of firearms and a cry. 

Huck waited for no particulars. He sprang away and sped down the hillas fast as his legs could carry him. 

CHAPTER XXX

AS the earliest suspicion of dawn appeared on Sunday morning, Huckcame groping up the hill and rapped gently at the old Welshman's door. The inmates were asleep, but it was a sleep that was set on ahair-trigger, on account of the exciting episode of the night. A callcame from a window:

"Who's there!"

Huck's scared voice answered in a low tone:

"Please let me in! It's only Huck Finn!"

"It's a name that can open this door night or day, lad!--and welcome!"

These were strange words to the vagabond boy's ears, and thepleasantest he had ever heard. He could not recollect that the closingword had ever been applied in his case before. The door was quicklyunlocked, and he entered. Huck was given a seat and the old man and hisbrace of tall sons speedily dressed themselves. 

"Now, my boy, I hope you're good and hungry, because breakfast will beready as soon as the sun's up, and we'll have a piping hot one, too--make yourself easy about that! I and the boys hoped you'd turn up andstop here last night. "

"I was awful scared, " said Huck, "and I run. I took out when thepistols went off, and I didn't stop for three mile. I've come now becuzI wanted to know about it, you know; and I come before daylight becuz Ididn't want to run across them devils, even if they was dead. "

"Well, poor chap, you do look as if you'd had a hard night of it--butthere's a bed here for you when you've had your breakfast. No, theyain't dead, lad--we are sorry enough for that. You see we knew rightwhere to put our hands on them, by your description; so we crept alongon tiptoe till we got within fifteen feet of them--dark as a cellarthat sumach path was--and just then I found I was going to sneeze. Itwas the meanest kind of luck! I tried to keep it back, but no use--'twas bound to come, and it did come! I was in the lead with my pistolraised, and when the sneeze started those scoundrels a-rustling to getout of the path, I sung out, 'Fire boys!' and blazed away at the placewhere the rustling was. So did the boys. But they were off in a jiffy, those villains, and we after them, down through the woods. I judge wenever touched them. They fired a shot apiece as they started, but theirbullets whizzed by and didn't do us any harm. As soon as we lost thesound of their feet we quit chasing, and went down and stirred up theconstables. They got a posse together, and went off to guard the riverbank, and as soon as it is light the sheriff and a gang are going tobeat up the woods. My boys will be with them presently. I wish we hadsome sort of description of those rascals--'twould help a good deal. But you couldn't see what they were like, in the dark, lad, I suppose?"

"Oh yes; I saw them down-town and follered them. "

"Splendid! Describe them--describe them, my boy!"

"One's the old deaf and dumb Spaniard that's ben around here once ortwice, and t'other's a mean-looking, ragged--"

"That's enough, lad, we know the men! Happened on them in the woodsback of the widow's one day, and they slunk away. Off with you, boys, and tell the sheriff--get your breakfast to-morrow morning!"

The Welshman's sons departed at once. As they were leaving the roomHuck sprang up and exclaimed:

"Oh, please don't tell ANYbody it was me that blowed on them! Oh, please!"

"All right if you say it, Huck, but you ought to have the credit ofwhat you did. "

"Oh no, no! Please don't tell!"

When the young men were gone, the old Welshman said:

"They won't tell--and I won't. But why don't you want it known?"

Huck would not explain, further than to say that he already knew toomuch about one of those men and would not have the man know that heknew anything against him for the whole world--he would be killed forknowing it, sure. 

The old man promised secrecy once more, and said:

"How did you come to follow these fellows, lad? Were they lookingsuspicious?"

Huck was silent while he framed a duly cautious reply. Then he said:

"Well, you see, I'm a kind of a hard lot, --least everybody says so, and I don't see nothing agin it--and sometimes I can't sleep much, onaccount of thinking about it and sort of trying to strike out a new wayof doing. That was the way of it last night. I couldn't sleep, and so Icome along up-street 'bout midnight, a-turning it all over, and when Igot to that old shackly brick store by the Temperance Tavern, I backedup agin the wall to have another think. Well, just then along comesthese two chaps slipping along close by me, with something under theirarm, and I reckoned they'd stole it. One was a-smoking, and t'other onewanted a light; so they stopped right before me and the cigars lit uptheir faces and I see that the big one was the deaf and dumb Spaniard, by his white whiskers and the patch on his eye, and t'other one was arusty, ragged-looking devil. "

"Could you see the rags by the light of the cigars?"

This staggered Huck for a moment. Then he said:

"Well, I don't know--but somehow it seems as if I did. "

"Then they went on, and you--"

"Follered 'em--yes. That was it. I wanted to see what was up--theysneaked along so. I dogged 'em to the widder's stile, and stood in thedark and heard the ragged one beg for the widder, and the Spaniardswear he'd spile her looks just as I told you and your two--"

"What! The DEAF AND DUMB man said all that!"

Huck had made another terrible mistake! He was trying his best to keepthe old man from getting the faintest hint of who the Spaniard mightbe, and yet his tongue seemed determined to get him into trouble inspite of all he could do. He made several efforts to creep out of hisscrape, but the old man's eye was upon him and he made blunder afterblunder. Presently the Welshman said:

"My boy, don't be afraid of me. I wouldn't hurt a hair of your headfor all the world. No--I'd protect you--I'd protect you. This Spaniardis not deaf and dumb; you've let that slip without intending it; youcan't cover that up now. You know something about that Spaniard thatyou want to keep dark. Now trust me--tell me what it is, and trust me--I won't betray you. "

Huck looked into the old man's honest eyes a moment, then bent overand whispered in his ear:

"'Tain't a Spaniard--it's Injun Joe!"

The Welshman almost jumped out of his chair. In a moment he said:

"It's all plain enough, now. When you talked about notching ears andslitting noses I judged that that was your own embellishment, becausewhite men don't take that sort of revenge. But an Injun! That's adifferent matter altogether. "

During breakfast the talk went on, and in the course of it the old mansaid that the last thing which he and his sons had done, before goingto bed, was to get a lantern and examine the stile and its vicinity formarks of blood. They found none, but captured a bulky bundle of--

"Of WHAT?"

If the words had been lightning they could not have leaped with a morestunning suddenness from Huck's blanched lips. His eyes were staringwide, now, and his breath suspended--waiting for the answer. TheWelshman started--stared in return--three seconds--five seconds--ten--then replied:

"Of burglar's tools. Why, what's the MATTER with you?"

Huck sank back, panting gently, but deeply, unutterably grateful. TheWelshman eyed him gravely, curiously--and presently said:

"Yes, burglar's tools. That appears to relieve you a good deal. Butwhat did give you that turn? What were YOU expecting we'd found?"

Huck was in a close place--the inquiring eye was upon him--he wouldhave given anything for material for a plausible answer--nothingsuggested itself--the inquiring eye was boring deeper and deeper--asenseless reply offered--there was no time to weigh it, so at a venturehe uttered it--feebly:

"Sunday-school books, maybe. "

Poor Huck was too distressed to smile, but the old man laughed loudand joyously, shook up the details of his anatomy from head to foot, and ended by saying that such a laugh was money in a-man's pocket, because it cut down the doctor's bill like everything. Then he added:

"Poor old chap, you're white and jaded--you ain't well a bit--nowonder you're a little flighty and off your balance. But you'll comeout of it. Rest and sleep will fetch you out all right, I hope. "

Huck was irritated to think he had been such a goose and betrayed sucha suspicious excitement, for he had dropped the idea that the parcelbrought from the tavern was the treasure, as soon as he had heard thetalk at the widow's stile. He had only thought it was not the treasure, however--he had not known that it wasn't--and so the suggestion of acaptured bundle was too much for his self-possession. But on the wholehe felt glad the little episode had happened, for now he knew beyondall question that that bundle was not THE bundle, and so his mind wasat rest and exceedingly comfortable. In fact, everything seemed to bedrifting just in the right direction, now; the treasure must be stillin No. 2, the men would be captured and jailed that day, and he and Tomcould seize the gold that night without any trouble or any fear ofinterruption. 

Just as breakfast was completed there was a knock at the door. Huckjumped for a hiding-place, for he had no mind to be connected evenremotely with the late event. The Welshman admitted several ladies andgentlemen, among them the Widow Douglas, and noticed that groups ofcitizens were climbing up the hill--to stare at the stile. So the newshad spread. The Welshman had to tell the story of the night to thevisitors. The widow's gratitude for her preservation was outspoken. 

"Don't say a word about it, madam. There's another that you're morebeholden to than you are to me and my boys, maybe, but he don't allowme to tell his name. We wouldn't have been there but for him. "

Of course this excited a curiosity so vast that it almost belittledthe main matter--but the Welshman allowed it to eat into the vitals ofhis visitors, and through them be transmitted to the whole town, for herefused to part with his secret. When all else had been learned, thewidow said:

"I went to sleep reading in bed and slept straight through all thatnoise. Why didn't you come and wake me?"

"We judged it warn't worth while. Those fellows warn't likely to comeagain--they hadn't any tools left to work with, and what was the use ofwaking you up and scaring you to death? My three negro men stood guardat your house all the rest of the night. They've just come back. "

More visitors came, and the story had to be told and retold for acouple of hours more. 

There was no Sabbath-school during day-school vacation, but everybodywas early at church. The stirring event was well canvassed. News camethat not a sign of the two villains had been yet discovered. When thesermon was finished, Judge Thatcher's wife dropped alongside of Mrs. Harper as she moved down the aisle with the crowd and said:

"Is my Becky going to sleep all day? I just expected she would betired to death. "

"Your Becky?"

"Yes, " with a startled look--"didn't she stay with you last night?"

"Why, no. "

Mrs. Thatcher turned pale, and sank into a pew, just as Aunt Polly, talking briskly with a friend, passed by. Aunt Polly said:

"Good-morning, Mrs. Thatcher. Good-morning, Mrs. Harper. I've got aboy that's turned up missing. I reckon my Tom stayed at your house lastnight--one of you. And now he's afraid to come to church. I've got tosettle with him. "

Mrs. Thatcher shook her head feebly and turned paler than ever. 

"He didn't stay with us, " said Mrs. Harper, beginning to look uneasy. A marked anxiety came into Aunt Polly's face. 

"Joe Harper, have you seen my Tom this morning?"

"No'm. "

"When did you see him last?"

Joe tried to remember, but was not sure he could say. The people hadstopped moving out of church. Whispers passed along, and a bodinguneasiness took possession of every countenance. Children wereanxiously questioned, and young teachers. They all said they had notnoticed whether Tom and Becky were on board the ferryboat on thehomeward trip; it was dark; no one thought of inquiring if any one wasmissing. One young man finally blurted out his fear that they werestill in the cave! Mrs. Thatcher swooned away. Aunt Polly fell tocrying and wringing her hands. 

The alarm swept from lip to lip, from group to group, from street tostreet, and within five minutes the bells were wildly clanging and thewhole town was up! The Cardiff Hill episode sank into instantinsignificance, the burglars were forgotten, horses were saddled, skiffs were manned, the ferryboat ordered out, and before the horrorwas half an hour old, two hundred men were pouring down highroad andriver toward the cave. 

All the long afternoon the village seemed empty and dead. Many womenvisited Aunt Polly and Mrs. Thatcher and tried to comfort them. Theycried with them, too, and that was still better than words. All thetedious night the town waited for news; but when the morning dawned atlast, all the word that came was, "Send more candles--and send food. "Mrs. Thatcher was almost crazed; and Aunt Polly, also. Judge Thatchersent messages of hope and encouragement from the cave, but theyconveyed no real cheer. 

The old Welshman came home toward daylight, spattered withcandle-grease, smeared with clay, and almost worn out. He found Huckstill in the bed that had been provided for him, and delirious withfever. The physicians were all at the cave, so the Widow Douglas cameand took charge of the patient. She said she would do her best by him, because, whether he was good, bad, or indifferent, he was the Lord's, and nothing that was the Lord's was a thing to be neglected. TheWelshman said Huck had good spots in him, and the widow said:

"You can depend on it. That's the Lord's mark. He don't leave it off. He never does. Puts it somewhere on every creature that comes from hishands. "

Early in the forenoon parties of jaded men began to straggle into thevillage, but the strongest of the citizens continued searching. All thenews that could be gained was that remotenesses of the cavern werebeing ransacked that had never been visited before; that every cornerand crevice was going to be thoroughly searched; that wherever onewandered through the maze of passages, lights were to be seen flittinghither and thither in the distance, and shoutings and pistol-shots senttheir hollow reverberations to the ear down the sombre aisles. In oneplace, far from the section usually traversed by tourists, the names"BECKY & TOM" had been found traced upon the rocky wall withcandle-smoke, and near at hand a grease-soiled bit of ribbon. Mrs. Thatcher recognized the ribbon and cried over it. She said it was thelast relic she should ever have of her child; and that no other memorialof her could ever be so precious, because this one parted latest fromthe living body before the awful death came. Some said that now andthen, in the cave, a far-away speck of light would glimmer, and then aglorious shout would burst forth and a score of men go trooping down theechoing aisle--and then a sickening disappointment always followed; thechildren were not there; it was only a searcher's light. 

Three dreadful days and nights dragged their tedious hours along, andthe village sank into a hopeless stupor. No one had heart for anything. The accidental discovery, just made, that the proprietor of theTemperance Tavern kept liquor on his premises, scarcely fluttered thepublic pulse, tremendous as the fact was. In a lucid interval, Huckfeebly led up to the subject of taverns, and finally asked--dimlydreading the worst--if anything had been discovered at the TemperanceTavern since he had been ill. 

"Yes, " said the widow. 

Huck started up in bed, wild-eyed:

"What? What was it?"

"Liquor!--and the place has been shut up. Lie down, child--what a turnyou did give me!"

"Only tell me just one thing--only just one--please! Was it Tom Sawyerthat found it?"

The widow burst into tears. "Hush, hush, child, hush! I've told youbefore, you must NOT talk. You are very, very sick!"

Then nothing but liquor had been found; there would have been a greatpowwow if it had been the gold. So the treasure was gone forever--goneforever! But what could she be crying about? Curious that she shouldcry. 

These thoughts worked their dim way through Huck's mind, and under theweariness they gave him he fell asleep. The widow said to herself:

"There--he's asleep, poor wreck. Tom Sawyer find it! Pity but somebodycould find Tom Sawyer! Ah, there ain't many left, now, that's got hopeenough, or strength enough, either, to go on searching. "

CHAPTER XXXI

NOW to return to Tom and Becky's share in the picnic. They trippedalong the murky aisles with the rest of the company, visiting thefamiliar wonders of the cave--wonders dubbed with ratherover-descriptive names, such as "The Drawing-Room, " "The Cathedral, ""Aladdin's Palace, " and so on. Presently the hide-and-seek frolickingbegan, and Tom and Becky engaged in it with zeal until the exertionbegan to grow a trifle wearisome; then they wandered down a sinuousavenue holding their candles aloft and reading the tangled web-work ofnames, dates, post-office addresses, and mottoes with which the rockywalls had been frescoed (in candle-smoke). Still drifting along andtalking, they scarcely noticed that they were now in a part of the cavewhose walls were not frescoed. They smoked their own names under anoverhanging shelf and moved on. Presently they came to a place where alittle stream of water, trickling over a ledge and carrying a limestonesediment with it, had, in the slow-dragging ages, formed a laced andruffled Niagara in gleaming and imperishable stone. Tom squeezed hissmall body behind it in order to illuminate it for Becky'sgratification. He found that it curtained a sort of steep naturalstairway which was enclosed between narrow walls, and at once theambition to be a discoverer seized him. Becky responded to his call, and they made a smoke-mark for future guidance, and started upon theirquest. They wound this way and that, far down into the secret depths ofthe cave, made another mark, and branched off in search of novelties totell the upper world about. In one place they found a spacious cavern, from whose ceiling depended a multitude of shining stalactites of thelength and circumference of a man's leg; they walked all about it, wondering and admiring, and presently left it by one of the numerouspassages that opened into it. This shortly brought them to a bewitchingspring, whose basin was incrusted with a frostwork of glitteringcrystals; it was in the midst of a cavern whose walls were supported bymany fantastic pillars which had been formed by the joining of greatstalactites and stalagmites together, the result of the ceaselesswater-drip of centuries. Under the roof vast knots of bats had packedthemselves together, thousands in a bunch; the lights disturbed thecreatures and they came flocking down by hundreds, squeaking anddarting furiously at the candles. Tom knew their ways and the danger ofthis sort of conduct. He seized Becky's hand and hurried her into thefirst corridor that offered; and none too soon, for a bat struckBecky's light out with its wing while she was passing out of thecavern. The bats chased the children a good distance; but the fugitivesplunged into every new passage that offered, and at last got rid of theperilous things. Tom found a subterranean lake, shortly, whichstretched its dim length away until its shape was lost in the shadows. He wanted to explore its borders, but concluded that it would be bestto sit down and rest awhile, first. Now, for the first time, the deepstillness of the place laid a clammy hand upon the spirits of thechildren. Becky said:

"Why, I didn't notice, but it seems ever so long since I heard any ofthe others. "

"Come to think, Becky, we are away down below them--and I don't knowhow far away north, or south, or east, or whichever it is. We couldn'thear them here. "

Becky grew apprehensive. 

"I wonder how long we've been down here, Tom? We better start back. "

"Yes, I reckon we better. P'raps we better. "

"Can you find the way, Tom? It's all a mixed-up crookedness to me. "

"I reckon I could find it--but then the bats. If they put our candlesout it will be an awful fix. Let's try some other way, so as not to gothrough there. "

"Well. But I hope we won't get lost. It would be so awful!" and thegirl shuddered at the thought of the dreadful possibilities. 

They started through a corridor, and traversed it in silence a longway, glancing at each new opening, to see if there was anythingfamiliar about the look of it; but they were all strange. Every timeTom made an examination, Becky would watch his face for an encouragingsign, and he would say cheerily:

"Oh, it's all right. This ain't the one, but we'll come to it rightaway!"

But he felt less and less hopeful with each failure, and presentlybegan to turn off into diverging avenues at sheer random, in desperatehope of finding the one that was wanted. He still said it was "allright, " but there was such a leaden dread at his heart that the wordshad lost their ring and sounded just as if he had said, "All is lost!"Becky clung to his side in an anguish of fear, and tried hard to keepback the tears, but they would come. At last she said:

"Oh, Tom, never mind the bats, let's go back that way! We seem to getworse and worse off all the time. "

"Listen!" said he. 

Profound silence; silence so deep that even their breathings wereconspicuous in the hush. Tom shouted. The call went echoing down theempty aisles and died out in the distance in a faint sound thatresembled a ripple of mocking laughter. 

"Oh, don't do it again, Tom, it is too horrid, " said Becky. 

"It is horrid, but I better, Becky; they might hear us, you know, " andhe shouted again. 

The "might" was even a chillier horror than the ghostly laughter, itso confessed a perishing hope. The children stood still and listened;but there was no result. Tom turned upon the back track at once, andhurried his steps. It was but a little while before a certainindecision in his manner revealed another fearful fact to Becky--hecould not find his way back!

"Oh, Tom, you didn't make any marks!"

"Becky, I was such a fool! Such a fool! I never thought we might wantto come back! No--I can't find the way. It's all mixed up. "

"Tom, Tom, we're lost! we're lost! We never can get out of this awfulplace! Oh, why DID we ever leave the others!"

She sank to the ground and burst into such a frenzy of crying that Tomwas appalled with the idea that she might die, or lose her reason. Hesat down by her and put his arms around her; she buried her face in hisbosom, she clung to him, she poured out her terrors, her unavailingregrets, and the far echoes turned them all to jeering laughter. Tombegged her to pluck up hope again, and she said she could not. He fellto blaming and abusing himself for getting her into this miserablesituation; this had a better effect. She said she would try to hopeagain, she would get up and follow wherever he might lead if only hewould not talk like that any more. For he was no more to blame thanshe, she said. 

So they moved on again--aimlessly--simply at random--all they could dowas to move, keep moving. For a little while, hope made a show ofreviving--not with any reason to back it, but only because it is itsnature to revive when the spring has not been taken out of it by ageand familiarity with failure. 

By-and-by Tom took Becky's candle and blew it out. This economy meantso much! Words were not needed. Becky understood, and her hope diedagain. She knew that Tom had a whole candle and three or four pieces inhis pockets--yet he must economize. 

By-and-by, fatigue began to assert its claims; the children tried topay attention, for it was dreadful to think of sitting down when timewas grown to be so precious, moving, in some direction, in anydirection, was at least progress and might bear fruit; but to sit downwas to invite death and shorten its pursuit. 

At last Becky's frail limbs refused to carry her farther. She satdown. Tom rested with her, and they talked of home, and the friendsthere, and the comfortable beds and, above all, the light! Becky cried, and Tom tried to think of some way of comforting her, but all hisencouragements were grown threadbare with use, and sounded likesarcasms. Fatigue bore so heavily upon Becky that she drowsed off tosleep. Tom was grateful. He sat looking into her drawn face and saw itgrow smooth and natural under the influence of pleasant dreams; andby-and-by a smile dawned and rested there. The peaceful face reflectedsomewhat of peace and healing into his own spirit, and his thoughtswandered away to bygone times and dreamy memories. While he was deep inhis musings, Becky woke up with a breezy little laugh--but it wasstricken dead upon her lips, and a groan followed it. 

"Oh, how COULD I sleep! I wish I never, never had waked! No! No, Idon't, Tom! Don't look so! I won't say it again. "

"I'm glad you've slept, Becky; you'll feel rested, now, and we'll findthe way out. "

"We can try, Tom; but I've seen such a beautiful country in my dream. I reckon we are going there. "

"Maybe not, maybe not. Cheer up, Becky, and let's go on trying. "

They rose up and wandered along, hand in hand and hopeless. They triedto estimate how long they had been in the cave, but all they knew wasthat it seemed days and weeks, and yet it was plain that this could notbe, for their candles were not gone yet. A long time after this--theycould not tell how long--Tom said they must go softly and listen fordripping water--they must find a spring. They found one presently, andTom said it was time to rest again. Both were cruelly tired, yet Beckysaid she thought she could go a little farther. She was surprised tohear Tom dissent. She could not understand it. They sat down, and Tomfastened his candle to the wall in front of them with some clay. Thought was soon busy; nothing was said for some time. Then Becky brokethe silence:

"Tom, I am so hungry!"

Tom took something out of his pocket. 

"Do you remember this?" said he. 

Becky almost smiled. 

"It's our wedding-cake, Tom. "

"Yes--I wish it was as big as a barrel, for it's all we've got. "

"I saved it from the picnic for us to dream on, Tom, the way grown-uppeople do with wedding-cake--but it'll be our--"

She dropped the sentence where it was. Tom divided the cake and Beckyate with good appetite, while Tom nibbled at his moiety. There wasabundance of cold water to finish the feast with. By-and-by Beckysuggested that they move on again. Tom was silent a moment. Then hesaid:

"Becky, can you bear it if I tell you something?"

Becky's face paled, but she thought she could. 

"Well, then, Becky, we must stay here, where there's water to drink. That little piece is our last candle!"

Becky gave loose to tears and wailings. Tom did what he could tocomfort her, but with little effect. At length Becky said:

"Tom!"

"Well, Becky?"

"They'll miss us and hunt for us!"

"Yes, they will! Certainly they will!"

"Maybe they're hunting for us now, Tom. "

"Why, I reckon maybe they are. I hope they are. "

"When would they miss us, Tom?"

"When they get back to the boat, I reckon. "

"Tom, it might be dark then--would they notice we hadn't come?"

"I don't know. But anyway, your mother would miss you as soon as theygot home. "

A frightened look in Becky's face brought Tom to his senses and he sawthat he had made a blunder. Becky was not to have gone home that night!The children became silent and thoughtful. In a moment a new burst ofgrief from Becky showed Tom that the thing in his mind had struck hersalso--that the Sabbath morning might be half spent before Mrs. Thatcherdiscovered that Becky was not at Mrs. Harper's. 

The children fastened their eyes upon their bit of candle and watchedit melt slowly and pitilessly away; saw the half inch of wick standalone at last; saw the feeble flame rise and fall, climb the thincolumn of smoke, linger at its top a moment, and then--the horror ofutter darkness reigned!

How long afterward it was that Becky came to a slow consciousness thatshe was crying in Tom's arms, neither could tell. All that they knewwas, that after what seemed a mighty stretch of time, both awoke out ofa dead stupor of sleep and resumed their miseries once more. Tom saidit might be Sunday, now--maybe Monday. He tried to get Becky to talk, but her sorrows were too oppressive, all her hopes were gone. Tom saidthat they must have been missed long ago, and no doubt the search wasgoing on. He would shout and maybe some one would come. He tried it;but in the darkness the distant echoes sounded so hideously that hetried it no more. 

The hours wasted away, and hunger came to torment the captives again. A portion of Tom's half of the cake was left; they divided and ate it. But they seemed hungrier than before. The poor morsel of food onlywhetted desire. 

By-and-by Tom said:

"SH! Did you hear that?"

Both held their breath and listened. There was a sound like thefaintest, far-off shout. Instantly Tom answered it, and leading Beckyby the hand, started groping down the corridor in its direction. Presently he listened again; again the sound was heard, and apparentlya little nearer. 

"It's them!" said Tom; "they're coming! Come along, Becky--we're allright now!"

The joy of the prisoners was almost overwhelming. Their speed wasslow, however, because pitfalls were somewhat common, and had to beguarded against. They shortly came to one and had to stop. It might bethree feet deep, it might be a hundred--there was no passing it at anyrate. Tom got down on his breast and reached as far down as he could. No bottom. They must stay there and wait until the searchers came. Theylistened; evidently the distant shoutings were growing more distant! amoment or two more and they had gone altogether. The heart-sinkingmisery of it! Tom whooped until he was hoarse, but it was of no use. Hetalked hopefully to Becky; but an age of anxious waiting passed and nosounds came again. 

The children groped their way back to the spring. The weary timedragged on; they slept again, and awoke famished and woe-stricken. Tombelieved it must be Tuesday by this time. 

Now an idea struck him. There were some side passages near at hand. Itwould be better to explore some of these than bear the weight of theheavy time in idleness. He took a kite-line from his pocket, tied it toa projection, and he and Becky started, Tom in the lead, unwinding theline as he groped along. At the end of twenty steps the corridor endedin a "jumping-off place. " Tom got down on his knees and felt below, andthen as far around the corner as he could reach with his handsconveniently; he made an effort to stretch yet a little farther to theright, and at that moment, not twenty yards away, a human hand, holdinga candle, appeared from behind a rock! Tom lifted up a glorious shout, and instantly that hand was followed by the body it belonged to--InjunJoe's! Tom was paralyzed; he could not move. He was vastly gratifiedthe next moment, to see the "Spaniard" take to his heels and gethimself out of sight. Tom wondered that Joe had not recognized hisvoice and come over and killed him for testifying in court. But theechoes must have disguised the voice. Without doubt, that was it, hereasoned. Tom's fright weakened every muscle in his body. He said tohimself that if he had strength enough to get back to the spring hewould stay there, and nothing should tempt him to run the risk ofmeeting Injun Joe again. He was careful to keep from Becky what it washe had seen. He told her he had only shouted "for luck. "

But hunger and wretchedness rise superior to fears in the long run. Another tedious wait at the spring and another long sleep broughtchanges. The children awoke tortured with a raging hunger. Tom believedthat it must be Wednesday or Thursday or even Friday or Saturday, now, and that the search had been given over. He proposed to explore anotherpassage. He felt willing to risk Injun Joe and all other terrors. ButBecky was very weak. She had sunk into a dreary apathy and would not beroused. She said she would wait, now, where she was, and die--it wouldnot be long. She told Tom to go with the kite-line and explore if hechose; but she implored him to come back every little while and speakto her; and she made him promise that when the awful time came, hewould stay by her and hold her hand until all was over. 

Tom kissed her, with a choking sensation in his throat, and made ashow of being confident of finding the searchers or an escape from thecave; then he took the kite-line in his hand and went groping down oneof the passages on his hands and knees, distressed with hunger and sickwith bodings of coming doom. 

CHAPTER XXXII

TUESDAY afternoon came, and waned to the twilight. The village of St. Petersburg still mourned. The lost children had not been found. Publicprayers had been offered up for them, and many and many a privateprayer that had the petitioner's whole heart in it; but still no goodnews came from the cave. The majority of the searchers had given up thequest and gone back to their daily avocations, saying that it was plainthe children could never be found. Mrs. Thatcher was very ill, and agreat part of the time delirious. People said it was heartbreaking tohear her call her child, and raise her head and listen a whole minuteat a time, then lay it wearily down again with a moan. Aunt Polly haddrooped into a settled melancholy, and her gray hair had grown almostwhite. The village went to its rest on Tuesday night, sad and forlorn. 

Away in the middle of the night a wild peal burst from the villagebells, and in a moment the streets were swarming with frantic half-cladpeople, who shouted, "Turn out! turn out! they're found! they'refound!" Tin pans and horns were added to the din, the population masseditself and moved toward the river, met the children coming in an opencarriage drawn by shouting citizens, thronged around it, joined itshomeward march, and swept magnificently up the main street roaringhuzzah after huzzah!

The village was illuminated; nobody went to bed again; it was thegreatest night the little town had ever seen. During the first half-houra procession of villagers filed through Judge Thatcher's house, seizedthe saved ones and kissed them, squeezed Mrs. Thatcher's hand, tried tospeak but couldn't--and drifted out raining tears all over the place. 

Aunt Polly's happiness was complete, and Mrs. Thatcher's nearly so. Itwould be complete, however, as soon as the messenger dispatched withthe great news to the cave should get the word to her husband. Tom layupon a sofa with an eager auditory about him and told the history ofthe wonderful adventure, putting in many striking additions to adorn itwithal; and closed with a description of how he left Becky and went onan exploring expedition; how he followed two avenues as far as hiskite-line would reach; how he followed a third to the fullest stretch ofthe kite-line, and was about to turn back when he glimpsed a far-offspeck that looked like daylight; dropped the line and groped toward it, pushed his head and shoulders through a small hole, and saw the broadMississippi rolling by! And if it had only happened to be night he wouldnot have seen that speck of daylight and would not have explored thatpassage any more! He told how he went back for Becky and broke the goodnews and she told him not to fret her with such stuff, for she wastired, and knew she was going to die, and wanted to. He described how helabored with her and convinced her; and how she almost died for joy whenshe had groped to where she actually saw the blue speck of daylight; howhe pushed his way out at the hole and then helped her out; how they satthere and cried for gladness; how some men came along in a skiff and Tomhailed them and told them their situation and their famished condition;how the men didn't believe the wild tale at first, "because, " said they, "you are five miles down the river below the valley the cave is in"--then took them aboard, rowed to a house, gave them supper, made themrest till two or three hours after dark and then brought them home. 

Before day-dawn, Judge Thatcher and the handful of searchers with himwere tracked out, in the cave, by the twine clews they had strungbehind them, and informed of the great news. 

Three days and nights of toil and hunger in the cave were not to beshaken off at once, as Tom and Becky soon discovered. They werebedridden all of Wednesday and Thursday, and seemed to grow more andmore tired and worn, all the time. Tom got about, a little, onThursday, was down-town Friday, and nearly as whole as ever Saturday;but Becky did not leave her room until Sunday, and then she looked asif she had passed through a wasting illness. 

Tom learned of Huck's sickness and went to see him on Friday, butcould not be admitted to the bedroom; neither could he on Saturday orSunday. He was admitted daily after that, but was warned to keep stillabout his adventure and introduce no exciting topic. The Widow Douglasstayed by to see that he obeyed. At home Tom learned of the CardiffHill event; also that the "ragged man's" body had eventually been foundin the river near the ferry-landing; he had been drowned while tryingto escape, perhaps. 

About a fortnight after Tom's rescue from the cave, he started off tovisit Huck, who had grown plenty strong enough, now, to hear excitingtalk, and Tom had some that would interest him, he thought. JudgeThatcher's house was on Tom's way, and he stopped to see Becky. TheJudge and some friends set Tom to talking, and some one asked himironically if he wouldn't like to go to the cave again. Tom said hethought he wouldn't mind it. The Judge said:

"Well, there are others just like you, Tom, I've not the least doubt. But we have taken care of that. Nobody will get lost in that cave anymore. "

"Why?"

"Because I had its big door sheathed with boiler iron two weeks ago, and triple-locked--and I've got the keys. "

Tom turned as white as a sheet. 

"What's the matter, boy! Here, run, somebody! Fetch a glass of water!"

The water was brought and thrown into Tom's face. 

"Ah, now you're all right. What was the matter with you, Tom?"

"Oh, Judge, Injun Joe's in the cave!"

CHAPTER XXXIII

WITHIN a few minutes the news had spread, and a dozen skiff-loads ofmen were on their way to McDougal's cave, and the ferryboat, wellfilled with passengers, soon followed. Tom Sawyer was in the skiff thatbore Judge Thatcher. 

When the cave door was unlocked, a sorrowful sight presented itself inthe dim twilight of the place. Injun Joe lay stretched upon the ground, dead, with his face close to the crack of the door, as if his longingeyes had been fixed, to the latest moment, upon the light and the cheerof the free world outside. Tom was touched, for he knew by his ownexperience how this wretch had suffered. His pity was moved, butnevertheless he felt an abounding sense of relief and security, now, which revealed to him in a degree which he had not fully appreciatedbefore how vast a weight of dread had been lying upon him since the dayhe lifted his voice against this bloody-minded outcast. 

Injun Joe's bowie-knife lay close by, its blade broken in two. Thegreat foundation-beam of the door had been chipped and hacked through, with tedious labor; useless labor, too, it was, for the native rockformed a sill outside it, and upon that stubborn material the knife hadwrought no effect; the only damage done was to the knife itself. But ifthere had been no stony obstruction there the labor would have beenuseless still, for if the beam had been wholly cut away Injun Joe couldnot have squeezed his body under the door, and he knew it. So he hadonly hacked that place in order to be doing something--in order to passthe weary time--in order to employ his tortured faculties. Ordinarilyone could find half a dozen bits of candle stuck around in the crevicesof this vestibule, left there by tourists; but there were none now. Theprisoner had searched them out and eaten them. He had also contrived tocatch a few bats, and these, also, he had eaten, leaving only theirclaws. The poor unfortunate had starved to death. In one place, near athand, a stalagmite had been slowly growing up from the ground for ages, builded by the water-drip from a stalactite overhead. The captive hadbroken off the stalagmite, and upon the stump had placed a stone, wherein he had scooped a shallow hollow to catch the precious dropthat fell once in every three minutes with the dreary regularity of aclock-tick--a dessertspoonful once in four and twenty hours. That dropwas falling when the Pyramids were new; when Troy fell; when thefoundations of Rome were laid when Christ was crucified; when theConqueror created the British empire; when Columbus sailed; when themassacre at Lexington was "news. " It is falling now; it will still befalling when all these things shall have sunk down the afternoon ofhistory, and the twilight of tradition, and been swallowed up in thethick night of oblivion. Has everything a purpose and a mission? Didthis drop fall patiently during five thousand years to be ready forthis flitting human insect's need? and has it another important objectto accomplish ten thousand years to come? No matter. It is many andmany a year since the hapless half-breed scooped out the stone to catchthe priceless drops, but to this day the tourist stares longest at thatpathetic stone and that slow-dropping water when he comes to see thewonders of McDougal's cave. Injun Joe's cup stands first in the list ofthe cavern's marvels; even "Aladdin's Palace" cannot rival it. 

Injun Joe was buried near the mouth of the cave; and people flockedthere in boats and wagons from the towns and from all the farms andhamlets for seven miles around; they brought their children, and allsorts of provisions, and confessed that they had had almost assatisfactory a time at the funeral as they could have had at thehanging. 

This funeral stopped the further growth of one thing--the petition tothe governor for Injun Joe's pardon. The petition had been largelysigned; many tearful and eloquent meetings had been held, and acommittee of sappy women been appointed to go in deep mourning and wailaround the governor, and implore him to be a merciful ass and tramplehis duty under foot. Injun Joe was believed to have killed fivecitizens of the village, but what of that? If he had been Satan himselfthere would have been plenty of weaklings ready to scribble their namesto a pardon-petition, and drip a tear on it from their permanentlyimpaired and leaky water-works. 

The morning after the funeral Tom took Huck to a private place to havean important talk. Huck had learned all about Tom's adventure from theWelshman and the Widow Douglas, by this time, but Tom said he reckonedthere was one thing they had not told him; that thing was what hewanted to talk about now. Huck's face saddened. He said:

"I know what it is. You got into No. 2 and never found anything butwhiskey. Nobody told me it was you; but I just knowed it must 'a' benyou, soon as I heard 'bout that whiskey business; and I knowed youhadn't got the money becuz you'd 'a' got at me some way or other andtold me even if you was mum to everybody else. Tom, something's alwaystold me we'd never get holt of that swag. "

"Why, Huck, I never told on that tavern-keeper. YOU know his tavernwas all right the Saturday I went to the picnic. Don't you remember youwas to watch there that night?"

"Oh yes! Why, it seems 'bout a year ago. It was that very night that Ifollered Injun Joe to the widder's. "

"YOU followed him?"

"Yes--but you keep mum. I reckon Injun Joe's left friends behind him, and I don't want 'em souring on me and doing me mean tricks. If ithadn't ben for me he'd be down in Texas now, all right. "

Then Huck told his entire adventure in confidence to Tom, who had onlyheard of the Welshman's part of it before. 

"Well, " said Huck, presently, coming back to the main question, "whoever nipped the whiskey in No. 2, nipped the money, too, I reckon--anyways it's a goner for us, Tom. "

"Huck, that money wasn't ever in No. 2!"

"What!" Huck searched his comrade's face keenly. "Tom, have you got onthe track of that money again?"

"Huck, it's in the cave!"

Huck's eyes blazed. 

"Say it again, Tom. "

"The money's in the cave!"

"Tom--honest injun, now--is it fun, or earnest?"

"Earnest, Huck--just as earnest as ever I was in my life. Will you goin there with me and help get it out?"

"I bet I will! I will if it's where we can blaze our way to it and notget lost. "

"Huck, we can do that without the least little bit of trouble in theworld. "

"Good as wheat! What makes you think the money's--"

"Huck, you just wait till we get in there. If we don't find it I'llagree to give you my drum and every thing I've got in the world. Iwill, by jings. "

"All right--it's a whiz. When do you say?"

"Right now, if you say it. Are you strong enough?"

"Is it far in the cave? I ben on my pins a little, three or four days, now, but I can't walk more'n a mile, Tom--least I don't think I could. "

"It's about five mile into there the way anybody but me would go, Huck, but there's a mighty short cut that they don't anybody but meknow about. Huck, I'll take you right to it in a skiff. I'll float theskiff down there, and I'll pull it back again all by myself. Youneedn't ever turn your hand over. "

"Less start right off, Tom. "

"All right. We want some bread and meat, and our pipes, and a littlebag or two, and two or three kite-strings, and some of thesenew-fangled things they call lucifer matches. I tell you, many'sthe time I wished I had some when I was in there before. "

A trifle after noon the boys borrowed a small skiff from a citizen whowas absent, and got under way at once. When they were several milesbelow "Cave Hollow, " Tom said:

"Now you see this bluff here looks all alike all the way down from thecave hollow--no houses, no wood-yards, bushes all alike. But do you seethat white place up yonder where there's been a landslide? Well, that'sone of my marks. We'll get ashore, now. "

They landed. 

"Now, Huck, where we're a-standing you could touch that hole I got outof with a fishing-pole. See if you can find it. "

Huck searched all the place about, and found nothing. Tom proudlymarched into a thick clump of sumach bushes and said:

"Here you are! Look at it, Huck; it's the snuggest hole in thiscountry. You just keep mum about it. All along I've been wanting to bea robber, but I knew I'd got to have a thing like this, and where torun across it was the bother. We've got it now, and we'll keep itquiet, only we'll let Joe Harper and Ben Rogers in--because of coursethere's got to be a Gang, or else there wouldn't be any style about it. Tom Sawyer's Gang--it sounds splendid, don't it, Huck?"

"Well, it just does, Tom. And who'll we rob?"

"Oh, most anybody. Waylay people--that's mostly the way. "

"And kill them?"

"No, not always. Hive them in the cave till they raise a ransom. "

"What's a ransom?"

"Money. You make them raise all they can, off'n their friends; andafter you've kept them a year, if it ain't raised then you kill them. That's the general way. Only you don't kill the women. You shut up thewomen, but you don't kill them. They're always beautiful and rich, andawfully scared. You take their watches and things, but you always takeyour hat off and talk polite. They ain't anybody as polite as robbers--you'll see that in any book. Well, the women get to loving you, andafter they've been in the cave a week or two weeks they stop crying andafter that you couldn't get them to leave. If you drove them out they'dturn right around and come back. It's so in all the books. "

"Why, it's real bully, Tom. I believe it's better'n to be a pirate. "

"Yes, it's better in some ways, because it's close to home andcircuses and all that. "

By this time everything was ready and the boys entered the hole, Tomin the lead. They toiled their way to the farther end of the tunnel, then made their spliced kite-strings fast and moved on. A few stepsbrought them to the spring, and Tom felt a shudder quiver all throughhim. He showed Huck the fragment of candle-wick perched on a lump ofclay against the wall, and described how he and Becky had watched theflame struggle and expire. 

The boys began to quiet down to whispers, now, for the stillness andgloom of the place oppressed their spirits. They went on, and presentlyentered and followed Tom's other corridor until they reached the"jumping-off place. " The candles revealed the fact that it was notreally a precipice, but only a steep clay hill twenty or thirty feethigh. Tom whispered:

"Now I'll show you something, Huck. "

He held his candle aloft and said:

"Look as far around the corner as you can. Do you see that? There--onthe big rock over yonder--done with candle-smoke. "

"Tom, it's a CROSS!"

"NOW where's your Number Two? 'UNDER THE CROSS, ' hey? Right yonder'swhere I saw Injun Joe poke up his candle, Huck!"

Huck stared at the mystic sign awhile, and then said with a shaky voice:

"Tom, less git out of here!"

"What! and leave the treasure?"

"Yes--leave it. Injun Joe's ghost is round about there, certain. "

"No it ain't, Huck, no it ain't. It would ha'nt the place where hedied--away out at the mouth of the cave--five mile from here. "

"No, Tom, it wouldn't. It would hang round the money. I know the waysof ghosts, and so do you. "

Tom began to fear that Huck was right. Misgivings gathered in hismind. But presently an idea occurred to him--

"Lookyhere, Huck, what fools we're making of ourselves! Injun Joe'sghost ain't a going to come around where there's a cross!"

The point was well taken. It had its effect. 

"Tom, I didn't think of that. But that's so. It's luck for us, thatcross is. I reckon we'll climb down there and have a hunt for that box. "

Tom went first, cutting rude steps in the clay hill as he descended. Huck followed. Four avenues opened out of the small cavern which thegreat rock stood in. The boys examined three of them with no result. They found a small recess in the one nearest the base of the rock, witha pallet of blankets spread down in it; also an old suspender, somebacon rind, and the well-gnawed bones of two or three fowls. But therewas no money-box. The lads searched and researched this place, but invain. Tom said:

"He said UNDER the cross. Well, this comes nearest to being under thecross. It can't be under the rock itself, because that sets solid onthe ground. "

They searched everywhere once more, and then sat down discouraged. Huck could suggest nothing. By-and-by Tom said:

"Lookyhere, Huck, there's footprints and some candle-grease on theclay about one side of this rock, but not on the other sides. Now, what's that for? I bet you the money IS under the rock. I'm going todig in the clay. "

"That ain't no bad notion, Tom!" said Huck with animation. 

Tom's "real Barlow" was out at once, and he had not dug four inchesbefore he struck wood. 

"Hey, Huck!--you hear that?"

Huck began to dig and scratch now. Some boards were soon uncovered andremoved. They had concealed a natural chasm which led under the rock. Tom got into this and held his candle as far under the rock as hecould, but said he could not see to the end of the rift. He proposed toexplore. He stooped and passed under; the narrow way descendedgradually. He followed its winding course, first to the right, then tothe left, Huck at his heels. Tom turned a short curve, by-and-by, andexclaimed:

"My goodness, Huck, lookyhere!"

It was the treasure-box, sure enough, occupying a snug little cavern, along with an empty powder-keg, a couple of guns in leather cases, twoor three pairs of old moccasins, a leather belt, and some other rubbishwell soaked with the water-drip. 

"Got it at last!" said Huck, ploughing among the tarnished coins withhis hand. "My, but we're rich, Tom!"

"Huck, I always reckoned we'd get it. It's just too good to believe, but we HAVE got it, sure! Say--let's not fool around here. Let's snakeit out. Lemme see if I can lift the box. "

It weighed about fifty pounds. Tom could lift it, after an awkwardfashion, but could not carry it conveniently. 

"I thought so, " he said; "THEY carried it like it was heavy, that dayat the ha'nted house. I noticed that. I reckon I was right to think offetching the little bags along. "

The money was soon in the bags and the boys took it up to the crossrock. 

"Now less fetch the guns and things, " said Huck. 

"No, Huck--leave them there. They're just the tricks to have when wego to robbing. We'll keep them there all the time, and we'll hold ourorgies there, too. It's an awful snug place for orgies. "

"What orgies?"

"I dono. But robbers always have orgies, and of course we've got tohave them, too. Come along, Huck, we've been in here a long time. It'sgetting late, I reckon. I'm hungry, too. We'll eat and smoke when weget to the skiff. "

They presently emerged into the clump of sumach bushes, looked warilyout, found the coast clear, and were soon lunching and smoking in theskiff. As the sun dipped toward the horizon they pushed out and gotunder way. Tom skimmed up the shore through the long twilight, chattingcheerily with Huck, and landed shortly after dark. 

"Now, Huck, " said Tom, "we'll hide the money in the loft of thewidow's woodshed, and I'll come up in the morning and we'll count itand divide, and then we'll hunt up a place out in the woods for itwhere it will be safe. Just you lay quiet here and watch the stuff tillI run and hook Benny Taylor's little wagon; I won't be gone a minute. "

He disappeared, and presently returned with the wagon, put the twosmall sacks into it, threw some old rags on top of them, and startedoff, dragging his cargo behind him. When the boys reached theWelshman's house, they stopped to rest. Just as they were about to moveon, the Welshman stepped out and said:

"Hallo, who's that?"

"Huck and Tom Sawyer. "

"Good! Come along with me, boys, you are keeping everybody waiting. Here--hurry up, trot ahead--I'll haul the wagon for you. Why, it's notas light as it might be. Got bricks in it?--or old metal?"

"Old metal, " said Tom. 

"I judged so; the boys in this town will take more trouble and foolaway more time hunting up six bits' worth of old iron to sell to thefoundry than they would to make twice the money at regular work. Butthat's human nature--hurry along, hurry along!"

The boys wanted to know what the hurry was about. 

"Never mind; you'll see, when we get to the Widow Douglas'. "

Huck said with some apprehension--for he was long used to beingfalsely accused:

"Mr. Jones, we haven't been doing nothing. "

The Welshman laughed. 

"Well, I don't know, Huck, my boy. I don't know about that. Ain't youand the widow good friends?"

"Yes. Well, she's ben good friends to me, anyway. "

"All right, then. What do you want to be afraid for?"

This question was not entirely answered in Huck's slow mind before hefound himself pushed, along with Tom, into Mrs. Douglas' drawing-room. Mr. Jones left the wagon near the door and followed. 

The place was grandly lighted, and everybody that was of anyconsequence in the village was there. The Thatchers were there, theHarpers, the Rogerses, Aunt Polly, Sid, Mary, the minister, the editor, and a great many more, and all dressed in their best. The widowreceived the boys as heartily as any one could well receive two suchlooking beings. They were covered with clay and candle-grease. AuntPolly blushed crimson with humiliation, and frowned and shook her headat Tom. Nobody suffered half as much as the two boys did, however. Mr. Jones said:

"Tom wasn't at home, yet, so I gave him up; but I stumbled on him andHuck right at my door, and so I just brought them along in a hurry. "

"And you did just right, " said the widow. "Come with me, boys. "

She took them to a bedchamber and said:

"Now wash and dress yourselves. Here are two new suits of clothes--shirts, socks, everything complete. They're Huck's--no, no thanks, Huck--Mr. Jones bought one and I the other. But they'll fit both of you. Get into them. We'll wait--come down when you are slicked up enough. "

Then she left. 

CHAPTER XXXIV

HUCK said: "Tom, we can slope, if we can find a rope. The window ain'thigh from the ground. "

"Shucks! what do you want to slope for?"

"Well, I ain't used to that kind of a crowd. I can't stand it. I ain'tgoing down there, Tom. "

"Oh, bother! It ain't anything. I don't mind it a bit. I'll take careof you. "

Sid appeared. 

"Tom, " said he, "auntie has been waiting for you all the afternoon. Mary got your Sunday clothes ready, and everybody's been fretting aboutyou. Say--ain't this grease and clay, on your clothes?"

"Now, Mr. Siddy, you jist 'tend to your own business. What's all thisblow-out about, anyway?"

"It's one of the widow's parties that she's always having. This timeit's for the Welshman and his sons, on account of that scrape theyhelped her out of the other night. And say--I can tell you something, if you want to know. "

"Well, what?"

"Why, old Mr. Jones is going to try to spring something on the peoplehere to-night, but I overheard him tell auntie to-day about it, as asecret, but I reckon it's not much of a secret now. Everybody knows--the widow, too, for all she tries to let on she don't. Mr. Jones wasbound Huck should be here--couldn't get along with his grand secretwithout Huck, you know!"

"Secret about what, Sid?"

"About Huck tracking the robbers to the widow's. I reckon Mr. Joneswas going to make a grand time over his surprise, but I bet you it willdrop pretty flat. "

Sid chuckled in a very contented and satisfied way. 

"Sid, was it you that told?"

"Oh, never mind who it was. SOMEBODY told--that's enough. "

"Sid, there's only one person in this town mean enough to do that, andthat's you. If you had been in Huck's place you'd 'a' sneaked down thehill and never told anybody on the robbers. You can't do any but meanthings, and you can't bear to see anybody praised for doing good ones. There--no thanks, as the widow says"--and Tom cuffed Sid's ears andhelped him to the door with several kicks. "Now go and tell auntie ifyou dare--and to-morrow you'll catch it!"

Some minutes later the widow's guests were at the supper-table, and adozen children were propped up at little side-tables in the same room, after the fashion of that country and that day. At the proper time Mr. Jones made his little speech, in which he thanked the widow for thehonor she was doing himself and his sons, but said that there wasanother person whose modesty--

And so forth and so on. He sprung his secret about Huck's share in theadventure in the finest dramatic manner he was master of, but thesurprise it occasioned was largely counterfeit and not as clamorous andeffusive as it might have been under happier circumstances. However, the widow made a pretty fair show of astonishment, and heaped so manycompliments and so much gratitude upon Huck that he almost forgot thenearly intolerable discomfort of his new clothes in the entirelyintolerable discomfort of being set up as a target for everybody's gazeand everybody's laudations. 

The widow said she meant to give Huck a home under her roof and havehim educated; and that when she could spare the money she would starthim in business in a modest way. Tom's chance was come. He said:

"Huck don't need it. Huck's rich. "

Nothing but a heavy strain upon the good manners of the company keptback the due and proper complimentary laugh at this pleasant joke. Butthe silence was a little awkward. Tom broke it:

"Huck's got money. Maybe you don't believe it, but he's got lots ofit. Oh, you needn't smile--I reckon I can show you. You just wait aminute. "

Tom ran out of doors. The company looked at each other with aperplexed interest--and inquiringly at Huck, who was tongue-tied. 

"Sid, what ails Tom?" said Aunt Polly. "He--well, there ain't ever anymaking of that boy out. I never--"

Tom entered, struggling with the weight of his sacks, and Aunt Pollydid not finish her sentence. Tom poured the mass of yellow coin uponthe table and said:

"There--what did I tell you? Half of it's Huck's and half of it's mine!"

The spectacle took the general breath away. All gazed, nobody spokefor a moment. Then there was a unanimous call for an explanation. Tomsaid he could furnish it, and he did. The tale was long, but brimful ofinterest. There was scarcely an interruption from any one to break thecharm of its flow. When he had finished, Mr. Jones said:

"I thought I had fixed up a little surprise for this occasion, but itdon't amount to anything now. This one makes it sing mighty small, I'mwilling to allow. "

The money was counted. The sum amounted to a little over twelvethousand dollars. It was more than any one present had ever seen at onetime before, though several persons were there who were worthconsiderably more than that in property. 

CHAPTER XXXV

THE reader may rest satisfied that Tom's and Huck's windfall made amighty stir in the poor little village of St. Petersburg. So vast asum, all in actual cash, seemed next to incredible. It was talkedabout, gloated over, glorified, until the reason of many of thecitizens tottered under the strain of the unhealthy excitement. Every"haunted" house in St. Petersburg and the neighboring villages wasdissected, plank by plank, and its foundations dug up and ransacked forhidden treasure--and not by boys, but men--pretty grave, unromanticmen, too, some of them. Wherever Tom and Huck appeared they werecourted, admired, stared at. The boys were not able to remember thattheir remarks had possessed weight before; but now their sayings weretreasured and repeated; everything they did seemed somehow to beregarded as remarkable; they had evidently lost the power of doing andsaying commonplace things; moreover, their past history was raked upand discovered to bear marks of conspicuous originality. The villagepaper published biographical sketches of the boys. 

The Widow Douglas put Huck's money out at six per cent. , and JudgeThatcher did the same with Tom's at Aunt Polly's request. Each lad hadan income, now, that was simply prodigious--a dollar for every week-dayin the year and half of the Sundays. It was just what the minister got--no, it was what he was promised--he generally couldn't collect it. Adollar and a quarter a week would board, lodge, and school a boy inthose old simple days--and clothe him and wash him, too, for thatmatter. 

Judge Thatcher had conceived a great opinion of Tom. He said that nocommonplace boy would ever have got his daughter out of the cave. WhenBecky told her father, in strict confidence, how Tom had taken herwhipping at school, the Judge was visibly moved; and when she pleadedgrace for the mighty lie which Tom had told in order to shift thatwhipping from her shoulders to his own, the Judge said with a fineoutburst that it was a noble, a generous, a magnanimous lie--a lie thatwas worthy to hold up its head and march down through history breast tobreast with George Washington's lauded Truth about the hatchet! Beckythought her father had never looked so tall and so superb as when hewalked the floor and stamped his foot and said that. She went straightoff and told Tom about it. 

Judge Thatcher hoped to see Tom a great lawyer or a great soldier someday. He said he meant to look to it that Tom should be admitted to theNational Military Academy and afterward trained in the best law schoolin the country, in order that he might be ready for either career orboth. 

Huck Finn's wealth and the fact that he was now under the WidowDouglas' protection introduced him into society--no, dragged him intoit, hurled him into it--and his sufferings were almost more than hecould bear. The widow's servants kept him clean and neat, combed andbrushed, and they bedded him nightly in unsympathetic sheets that hadnot one little spot or stain which he could press to his heart and knowfor a friend. He had to eat with a knife and fork; he had to usenapkin, cup, and plate; he had to learn his book, he had to go tochurch; he had to talk so properly that speech was become insipid inhis mouth; whithersoever he turned, the bars and shackles ofcivilization shut him in and bound him hand and foot. 

He bravely bore his miseries three weeks, and then one day turned upmissing. For forty-eight hours the widow hunted for him everywhere ingreat distress. The public were profoundly concerned; they searchedhigh and low, they dragged the river for his body. Early the thirdmorning Tom Sawyer wisely went poking among some old empty hogsheadsdown behind the abandoned slaughter-house, and in one of them he foundthe refugee. Huck had slept there; he had just breakfasted upon somestolen odds and ends of food, and was lying off, now, in comfort, withhis pipe. He was unkempt, uncombed, and clad in the same old ruin ofrags that had made him picturesque in the days when he was free andhappy. Tom routed him out, told him the trouble he had been causing, and urged him to go home. Huck's face lost its tranquil content, andtook a melancholy cast. He said:

"Don't talk about it, Tom. I've tried it, and it don't work; it don'twork, Tom. It ain't for me; I ain't used to it. The widder's good tome, and friendly; but I can't stand them ways. She makes me get up justat the same time every morning; she makes me wash, they comb me all tothunder; she won't let me sleep in the woodshed; I got to wear themblamed clothes that just smothers me, Tom; they don't seem to any airgit through 'em, somehow; and they're so rotten nice that I can't setdown, nor lay down, nor roll around anywher's; I hain't slid on acellar-door for--well, it 'pears to be years; I got to go to church andsweat and sweat--I hate them ornery sermons! I can't ketch a fly inthere, I can't chaw. I got to wear shoes all Sunday. The widder eats bya bell; she goes to bed by a bell; she gits up by a bell--everything'sso awful reg'lar a body can't stand it. "

"Well, everybody does that way, Huck. "

"Tom, it don't make no difference. I ain't everybody, and I can'tSTAND it. It's awful to be tied up so. And grub comes too easy--I don'ttake no interest in vittles, that way. I got to ask to go a-fishing; Igot to ask to go in a-swimming--dern'd if I hain't got to ask to doeverything. Well, I'd got to talk so nice it wasn't no comfort--I'd gotto go up in the attic and rip out awhile, every day, to git a taste inmy mouth, or I'd a died, Tom. The widder wouldn't let me smoke; shewouldn't let me yell, she wouldn't let me gape, nor stretch, norscratch, before folks--" [Then with a spasm of special irritation andinjury]--"And dad fetch it, she prayed all the time! I never see such awoman! I HAD to shove, Tom--I just had to. And besides, that school'sgoing to open, and I'd a had to go to it--well, I wouldn't stand THAT, Tom. Looky here, Tom, being rich ain't what it's cracked up to be. It'sjust worry and worry, and sweat and sweat, and a-wishing you was deadall the time. Now these clothes suits me, and this bar'l suits me, andI ain't ever going to shake 'em any more. Tom, I wouldn't ever got intoall this trouble if it hadn't 'a' ben for that money; now you just takemy sheer of it along with your'n, and gimme a ten-center sometimes--notmany times, becuz I don't give a dern for a thing 'thout it's tollablehard to git--and you go and beg off for me with the widder. "

"Oh, Huck, you know I can't do that. 'Tain't fair; and besides ifyou'll try this thing just a while longer you'll come to like it. "

"Like it! Yes--the way I'd like a hot stove if I was to set on it longenough. No, Tom, I won't be rich, and I won't live in them cussedsmothery houses. I like the woods, and the river, and hogsheads, andI'll stick to 'em, too. Blame it all! just as we'd got guns, and acave, and all just fixed to rob, here this dern foolishness has got tocome up and spile it all!"

Tom saw his opportunity--

"Lookyhere, Huck, being rich ain't going to keep me back from turningrobber. "

"No! Oh, good-licks; are you in real dead-wood earnest, Tom?"

"Just as dead earnest as I'm sitting here. But Huck, we can't let youinto the gang if you ain't respectable, you know. "

Huck's joy was quenched. 

"Can't let me in, Tom? Didn't you let me go for a pirate?"

"Yes, but that's different. A robber is more high-toned than what apirate is--as a general thing. In most countries they're awful high upin the nobility--dukes and such. "

"Now, Tom, hain't you always ben friendly to me? You wouldn't shet meout, would you, Tom? You wouldn't do that, now, WOULD you, Tom?"

"Huck, I wouldn't want to, and I DON'T want to--but what would peoplesay? Why, they'd say, 'Mph! Tom Sawyer's Gang! pretty low characters init!' They'd mean you, Huck. You wouldn't like that, and I wouldn't. "

Huck was silent for some time, engaged in a mental struggle. Finallyhe said:

"Well, I'll go back to the widder for a month and tackle it and see ifI can come to stand it, if you'll let me b'long to the gang, Tom. "

"All right, Huck, it's a whiz! Come along, old chap, and I'll ask thewidow to let up on you a little, Huck. "

"Will you, Tom--now will you? That's good. If she'll let up on some ofthe roughest things, I'll smoke private and cuss private, and crowdthrough or bust. When you going to start the gang and turn robbers?"

"Oh, right off. We'll get the boys together and have the initiationto-night, maybe. "

"Have the which?"

"Have the initiation. "

"What's that?"

"It's to swear to stand by one another, and never tell the gang'ssecrets, even if you're chopped all to flinders, and kill anybody andall his family that hurts one of the gang. "

"That's gay--that's mighty gay, Tom, I tell you. "

"Well, I bet it is. And all that swearing's got to be done atmidnight, in the lonesomest, awfulest place you can find--a ha'ntedhouse is the best, but they're all ripped up now. "

"Well, midnight's good, anyway, Tom. "

"Yes, so it is. And you've got to swear on a coffin, and sign it withblood. "

"Now, that's something LIKE! Why, it's a million times bullier thanpirating. I'll stick to the widder till I rot, Tom; and if I git to bea reg'lar ripper of a robber, and everybody talking 'bout it, I reckonshe'll be proud she snaked me in out of the wet. "

CONCLUSION

SO endeth this chronicle. It being strictly a history of a BOY, itmust stop here; the story could not go much further without becomingthe history of a MAN. When one writes a novel about grown people, heknows exactly where to stop--that is, with a marriage; but when hewrites of juveniles, he must stop where he best can. 

Most of the characters that perform in this book still live, and areprosperous and happy. Some day it may seem worth while to take up thestory of the younger ones again and see what sort of men and women theyturned out to be; therefore it will be wisest not to reveal any of thatpart of their lives at present.