Reading Help Adventures of Tom Sawyer Ch.XVI-XXXV
testified that he found Muff Potter washing in the brook, at an early hour of `
` the morning that the murder was discovered, and that he immediately sneaked `
` away. After some further questioning, counsel for the prosecution said: "Take `
` the witness." The prisoner raised his eyes for a moment, but dropped them again `
` when his 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's `
` possession. "Take the witness." Counsel for Potter declined to question him. `
` The faces of the audience began to betray annoyance. Did this attorney mean to `
` throw away his client's life without an effort? Several witnesses deposed `
` concerning Potter's guilty behavior when brought to the scene of the murder. `
` They were allowed to leave the stand without being cross-questioned. Every `
` detail of the damaging circumstances that occurred in the graveyard upon that `
` morning which all present remembered so well was brought out by credible `
` witnesses, but none of them were cross-examined by Potter's lawyer. The `
` perplexity and dissatisfaction of the house expressed 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, we have 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 and rocked his body softly to and fro, while a `
` painful silence reigned in the court-room. Many men were moved, and many `
` women's compassion testified itself in tears. Counsel for the defence rose and `
` said: "Your honor, in our remarks at the opening of this trial, we foreshadowed `
` our purpose to prove that our client did this fearful deed while under the `
` influence of a blind and irresponsible delirium produced by drink. We have `
` changed our mind. We shall not offer that plea." [Then to the clerk:] "Call `
` Thomas Sawyer!" A puzzled amazement awoke in every face in the house, not even `
` excepting Potter's. Every eye fastened itself with wondering interest upon Tom `
` as he rose and took his place upon the stand. The boy looked wild enough, for `
` he was badly scared. The oath was administered. "Thomas Sawyer, where were you `
` on the seventeenth of June, about the hour of midnight?" Tom glanced at Injun `
` Joe's iron face and his tongue failed him. The audience listened breathless, `
` but the words refused to come. After a few moments, however, the boy got a `
` little of his strength back, and managed to put enough of it into his voice to `
` make part of the house hear: "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. We will produce him at the proper time. Did `
` you carry anything there with you." Tom hesitated and looked confused. "Speak `
` out, my boy--don't be diffident. The truth is always respectable. 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 us `
` everything 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 his words flowed more and more easily; in a little while every sound `
` ceased but his own voice; every eye fixed itself upon him; with parted lips and `
` bated breath the audience hung upon his words, taking no note of time, rapt in `
` the ghastly fascinations of the tale. The strain upon pent 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 his way through all `
` opposers, and was gone! CHAPTER XXIV TOM was a glittering hero once more--the `
` pet of the old, the envy of the young. His name even went into immortal print, `
` for the village paper magnified him. There were some that believed he would be `
` President, yet, if he escaped hanging. As usual, the fickle, unreasoning world `
` took Muff Potter to its bosom and fondled him as lavishly as it had abused him `
` before. But that sort of conduct is to the world's credit; therefore it is not `
` well to find fault with it. Tom's days were days of splendor and exultation to `
` him, but his nights were seasons of horror. Injun Joe infested all his dreams, `
` and always with doom in his eye. Hardly any temptation could persuade the boy `
` to stir abroad after nightfall. Poor Huck was in the same state of wretchedness `
` and terror, for Tom had told the whole story to the lawyer the night before the `
` great day of the trial, and Huck was sore afraid that his share in the business `
` might leak out, yet, notwithstanding Injun Joe's flight had saved him the `
` suffering of testifying in court. The poor fellow had got the attorney to `
` promise secrecy, but what of that? Since Tom's harassed conscience had managed `
` to drive him to the lawyer's house by night and wring a dread tale from lips `
` that had been sealed with the dismalest and most formidable of oaths, Huck's `
` confidence in the human race was well-nigh obliterated. Daily Muff Potter's `
` gratitude made Tom glad he had spoken; but nightly he wished he had sealed up `
` his tongue. Half the time Tom was afraid Injun Joe would never be captured; the `
` other half he was afraid he would be. He felt sure he never could draw a 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 Injun Joe was found. One of `
` those omniscient and awe-inspiring marvels, a detective, came up from St. `
` Louis, moused around, shook his head, looked wise, and made that sort of `
` astounding success which members of that craft usually achieve. That is to say, `
` he "found a clew." But you can't hang a "clew" for murder, and so after that `
` detective had got through and gone home, Tom felt just as insecure as he was `
` before. The slow days drifted on, and each left behind it a slightly lightened `
` weight of apprehension. CHAPTER XXV THERE comes a time in every `
` rightly-constructed boy's life when he has a raging desire to go somewhere and `
` dig for hidden treasure. This desire suddenly came upon Tom one day. He sallied `
` out to find Joe Harper, but failed of success. Next he sought Ben Rogers; he `
` had gone fishing. Presently he stumbled upon Huck Finn the Red-Handed. Huck `
` would answer. Tom took him to a private place and opened the matter to him `
` confidentially. Huck was willing. Huck was always willing to take a hand in any `
` enterprise that offered entertainment and required no capital, for he had a `
` troublesome superabundance of that sort of time which 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 a limb of an old dead `
` tree, just where the shadow falls at midnight; but mostly under the floor in `
` ha'nted houses." "Who hides it?" "Why, robbers, of course--who'd you reckon? `
` Sunday-school sup'rintendents?" "I don't know. If 'twas mine I wouldn't hide `
` it; I'd spend it and have a good time." "So would I. But robbers don't do that `
` way. They always hide it and leave it there." "Don't they come after it any `
` more?" "No, they think they will, but they generally forget the marks, or else `
` they die. Anyway, it lays there a long time and gets rusty; and by and by `
` somebody finds an old yellow paper that tells how to find the marks--a paper `
` that's got to be ciphered over about a week because it's mostly signs and `
` hy'roglyphics." "HyroQwhich?" "Hy'roglyphics--pictures and things, you know, `
` that don't seem to mean anything." "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 or on 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 again some 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 hundred dollars 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 hundred `
` dollars and I don't want no di'monds." "All right. But I bet you I ain't going `
` to throw off on di'monds. Some of 'em's worth twenty dollars apiece--there `
` ain't any, hardly, but's worth 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 raft of `
` '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 do they 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 king and have only just a `
` given name, like a nigger. But say--where you going to dig first?" "Well, I `
` don't know. S'pose we tackle that old dead-limb tree on the hill t'other side `
` of Still-House branch?" "I'm agreed." So they got a crippled pick and a shovel, `
` and set out on their three-mile tramp. They arrived hot and panting, and threw `
` themselves down 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 your share?" "Well, I'll have pie and a glass of soda `
` every day, and I'll go to every 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 some day and get his claws on it if I didn't hurry `
` up, and I tell you he'd clean 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 red `
` necktie 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 my mother. Fight! Why, they used `
` to fight all the time. I remember, mighty well." "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 you better think 'bout this awhile. I tell you you better. `
` What's the name of 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's right, 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 lonesomer than ever." `
` "No you won't. You'll come and live with me. Now stir out of this and we'll go `
` to digging." They worked and sweated for half an hour. No result. They toiled `
` another 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 the `
` right 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 some `
` time. Finally Huck leaned on his shovel, swabbed the beaded drops from his 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 on Cardiff `
` Hill back of the widow's." "I reckon that'll be a good one. But won't the widow `
` take it away from us, Tom? It's on her land." "SHE take it away! Maybe she'd `
` like to try it once. Whoever finds one of these hid treasures, it belongs to `
` him. It don't make any difference whose 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 witches interfere. 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 matter is! What a blamed lot of fools we `
` are! You got to find out where the shadow of the limb falls at midnight, and `
` that's where you dig!" "Then consound it, we've fooled away all this work for `
` nothing. Now hang 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 somebody sees these holes they'll know in a minute what's here and they'll `
` go for 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 in the shadow waiting. It was a lonely place, and an hour made `
` solemn by old traditions. Spirits whispered in the rustling leaves, ghosts `
` lurked in the murky nooks, the deep baying of a hound floated up out of the `
` distance, an owl answered with his sepulchral note. The boys were subdued by `
` these solemnities, and talked little. By and by they judged that twelve had `
` come; they marked where the shadow fell, and began to dig. Their hopes `
` commenced to rise. Their interest grew stronger, and their industry kept pace `
` with it. The hole deepened and still deepened, but every time their hearts `
` jumped to hear the pick strike upon something, they only suffered a new `
` disappointment. It was only a stone or 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 too early." `
` Huck dropped his shovel. "That's it," said he. "That's the very trouble. We got `
` to give this one up. We can't ever tell the right time, and besides this kind `
` of thing's too awful, here this time of night with witches and ghosts `
` a-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 front a-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 a dead man when they bury a `
` treasure under a tree, to look out for it." "Lordy!" "Yes, they do. I've always `
`
` the morning that the murder was discovered, and that he immediately sneaked `
` away. After some further questioning, counsel for the prosecution said: "Take `
` the witness." The prisoner raised his eyes for a moment, but dropped them again `
` when his 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's `
` possession. "Take the witness." Counsel for Potter declined to question him. `
` The faces of the audience began to betray annoyance. Did this attorney mean to `
` throw away his client's life without an effort? Several witnesses deposed `
` concerning Potter's guilty behavior when brought to the scene of the murder. `
` They were allowed to leave the stand without being cross-questioned. Every `
` detail of the damaging circumstances that occurred in the graveyard upon that `
` morning which all present remembered so well was brought out by credible `
` witnesses, but none of them were cross-examined by Potter's lawyer. The `
` perplexity and dissatisfaction of the house expressed 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, we have 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 and rocked his body softly to and fro, while a `
` painful silence reigned in the court-room. Many men were moved, and many `
` women's compassion testified itself in tears. Counsel for the defence rose and `
` said: "Your honor, in our remarks at the opening of this trial, we foreshadowed `
` our purpose to prove that our client did this fearful deed while under the `
` influence of a blind and irresponsible delirium produced by drink. We have `
` changed our mind. We shall not offer that plea." [Then to the clerk:] "Call `
` Thomas Sawyer!" A puzzled amazement awoke in every face in the house, not even `
` excepting Potter's. Every eye fastened itself with wondering interest upon Tom `
` as he rose and took his place upon the stand. The boy looked wild enough, for `
` he was badly scared. The oath was administered. "Thomas Sawyer, where were you `
` on the seventeenth of June, about the hour of midnight?" Tom glanced at Injun `
` Joe's iron face and his tongue failed him. The audience listened breathless, `
` but the words refused to come. After a few moments, however, the boy got a `
` little of his strength back, and managed to put enough of it into his voice to `
` make part of the house hear: "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. We will produce him at the proper time. Did `
` you carry anything there with you." Tom hesitated and looked confused. "Speak `
` out, my boy--don't be diffident. The truth is always respectable. 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 us `
` everything 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 his words flowed more and more easily; in a little while every sound `
` ceased but his own voice; every eye fixed itself upon him; with parted lips and `
` bated breath the audience hung upon his words, taking no note of time, rapt in `
` the ghastly fascinations of the tale. The strain upon pent 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 his way through all `
` opposers, and was gone! CHAPTER XXIV TOM was a glittering hero once more--the `
` pet of the old, the envy of the young. His name even went into immortal print, `
` for the village paper magnified him. There were some that believed he would be `
` President, yet, if he escaped hanging. As usual, the fickle, unreasoning world `
` took Muff Potter to its bosom and fondled him as lavishly as it had abused him `
` before. But that sort of conduct is to the world's credit; therefore it is not `
` well to find fault with it. Tom's days were days of splendor and exultation to `
` him, but his nights were seasons of horror. Injun Joe infested all his dreams, `
` and always with doom in his eye. Hardly any temptation could persuade the boy `
` to stir abroad after nightfall. Poor Huck was in the same state of wretchedness `
` and terror, for Tom had told the whole story to the lawyer the night before the `
` great day of the trial, and Huck was sore afraid that his share in the business `
` might leak out, yet, notwithstanding Injun Joe's flight had saved him the `
` suffering of testifying in court. The poor fellow had got the attorney to `
` promise secrecy, but what of that? Since Tom's harassed conscience had managed `
` to drive him to the lawyer's house by night and wring a dread tale from lips `
` that had been sealed with the dismalest and most formidable of oaths, Huck's `
` confidence in the human race was well-nigh obliterated. Daily Muff Potter's `
` gratitude made Tom glad he had spoken; but nightly he wished he had sealed up `
` his tongue. Half the time Tom was afraid Injun Joe would never be captured; the `
` other half he was afraid he would be. He felt sure he never could draw a 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 Injun Joe was found. One of `
` those omniscient and awe-inspiring marvels, a detective, came up from St. `
` Louis, moused around, shook his head, looked wise, and made that sort of `
` astounding success which members of that craft usually achieve. That is to say, `
` he "found a clew." But you can't hang a "clew" for murder, and so after that `
` detective had got through and gone home, Tom felt just as insecure as he was `
` before. The slow days drifted on, and each left behind it a slightly lightened `
` weight of apprehension. CHAPTER XXV THERE comes a time in every `
` rightly-constructed boy's life when he has a raging desire to go somewhere and `
` dig for hidden treasure. This desire suddenly came upon Tom one day. He sallied `
` out to find Joe Harper, but failed of success. Next he sought Ben Rogers; he `
` had gone fishing. Presently he stumbled upon Huck Finn the Red-Handed. Huck `
` would answer. Tom took him to a private place and opened the matter to him `
` confidentially. Huck was willing. Huck was always willing to take a hand in any `
` enterprise that offered entertainment and required no capital, for he had a `
` troublesome superabundance of that sort of time which 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 a limb of an old dead `
` tree, just where the shadow falls at midnight; but mostly under the floor in `
` ha'nted houses." "Who hides it?" "Why, robbers, of course--who'd you reckon? `
` Sunday-school sup'rintendents?" "I don't know. If 'twas mine I wouldn't hide `
` it; I'd spend it and have a good time." "So would I. But robbers don't do that `
` way. They always hide it and leave it there." "Don't they come after it any `
` more?" "No, they think they will, but they generally forget the marks, or else `
` they die. Anyway, it lays there a long time and gets rusty; and by and by `
` somebody finds an old yellow paper that tells how to find the marks--a paper `
` that's got to be ciphered over about a week because it's mostly signs and `
` hy'roglyphics." "HyroQwhich?" "Hy'roglyphics--pictures and things, you know, `
` that don't seem to mean anything." "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 or on 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 again some 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 hundred dollars 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 hundred `
` dollars and I don't want no di'monds." "All right. But I bet you I ain't going `
` to throw off on di'monds. Some of 'em's worth twenty dollars apiece--there `
` ain't any, hardly, but's worth 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 raft of `
` '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 do they 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 king and have only just a `
` given name, like a nigger. But say--where you going to dig first?" "Well, I `
` don't know. S'pose we tackle that old dead-limb tree on the hill t'other side `
` of Still-House branch?" "I'm agreed." So they got a crippled pick and a shovel, `
` and set out on their three-mile tramp. They arrived hot and panting, and threw `
` themselves down 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 your share?" "Well, I'll have pie and a glass of soda `
` every day, and I'll go to every 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 some day and get his claws on it if I didn't hurry `
` up, and I tell you he'd clean 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 red `
` necktie 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 my mother. Fight! Why, they used `
` to fight all the time. I remember, mighty well." "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 you better think 'bout this awhile. I tell you you better. `
` What's the name of 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's right, 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 lonesomer than ever." `
` "No you won't. You'll come and live with me. Now stir out of this and we'll go `
` to digging." They worked and sweated for half an hour. No result. They toiled `
` another 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 the `
` right 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 some `
` time. Finally Huck leaned on his shovel, swabbed the beaded drops from his 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 on Cardiff `
` Hill back of the widow's." "I reckon that'll be a good one. But won't the widow `
` take it away from us, Tom? It's on her land." "SHE take it away! Maybe she'd `
` like to try it once. Whoever finds one of these hid treasures, it belongs to `
` him. It don't make any difference whose 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 witches interfere. 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 matter is! What a blamed lot of fools we `
` are! You got to find out where the shadow of the limb falls at midnight, and `
` that's where you dig!" "Then consound it, we've fooled away all this work for `
` nothing. Now hang 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 somebody sees these holes they'll know in a minute what's here and they'll `
` go for 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 in the shadow waiting. It was a lonely place, and an hour made `
` solemn by old traditions. Spirits whispered in the rustling leaves, ghosts `
` lurked in the murky nooks, the deep baying of a hound floated up out of the `
` distance, an owl answered with his sepulchral note. The boys were subdued by `
` these solemnities, and talked little. By and by they judged that twelve had `
` come; they marked where the shadow fell, and began to dig. Their hopes `
` commenced to rise. Their interest grew stronger, and their industry kept pace `
` with it. The hole deepened and still deepened, but every time their hearts `
` jumped to hear the pick strike upon something, they only suffered a new `
` disappointment. It was only a stone or 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 too early." `
` Huck dropped his shovel. "That's it," said he. "That's the very trouble. We got `
` to give this one up. We can't ever tell the right time, and besides this kind `
` of thing's too awful, here this time of night with witches and ghosts `
` a-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 front a-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 a dead man when they bury a `
` treasure under a tree, to look out for it." "Lordy!" "Yes, they do. I've always `
`