Reading Help Adventures of Tom Sawyer Ch.XVI-XXXV
uncertain treasure; and, boy-like, he determined to yield to the stronger `
` inclination and not allow himself to think of the box of money another time `
` that day. Three miles below town the ferryboat stopped at the mouth of a woody `
` hollow and tied up. The crowd swarmed ashore and soon the forest distances and `
` craggy heights echoed far and near with shoutings and laughter. All the `
` different ways of getting hot and tired were gone through with, and by-and-by `
` the rovers straggled back to camp fortified with responsible appetites, and `
` then the destruction of the good things began. After the feast there was a `
` refreshing season of rest and chat in 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 there was a general scamper up the hill. The `
` mouth of the cave was up the hillside--an opening shaped like a letter A. Its `
` massive oaken door stood unbarred. Within was a small chamber, chilly as an `
` ice-house, and walled 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 look `
` out upon the green valley shining in the sun. But the impressiveness of the `
` situation quickly wore off, and the romping began again. The moment a candle `
` was lighted there was a general rush upon the owner of it; a struggle and a `
` gallant defence followed, but the candle was soon knocked down or blown out, `
` and then there was a glad clamor of laughter and a new chase. But all things `
` have an end. By-and-by the procession went filing down the steep descent of the `
` main avenue, the flickering rank of lights dimly revealing the lofty walls of `
` rock almost to their point of junction sixty feet overhead. This main avenue `
` was not more than eight or ten feet wide. Every few steps other lofty and still `
` narrower crevices branched from it on either hand--for McDougal's cave was but `
` a vast labyrinth of crooked aisles that ran into each other and out again and `
` led nowhere. It was said that one might wander days and nights together through `
` its intricate tangle of rifts and chasms, and never 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--labyrinth under 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 of it, 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 a mile, and then groups and `
` couples began to slip aside into branch avenues, fly along the dismal `
` corridors, and take each other by surprise at points where the corridors joined `
` again. Parties were able to elude each other for the space of half an hour `
` without going beyond the "known" ground. By-and-by, one group after another `
` came straggling back to the mouth of the cave, panting, hilarious, smeared from `
` head to foot with tallow drippings, daubed with clay, and entirely delighted `
` with the success of the day. Then they were astonished to find that they had `
` been taking no note of time and that night was about at hand. The clanging bell `
` had been calling for half an hour. However, this sort of close to the day's `
` adventures was romantic and therefore satisfactory. When the ferryboat with her `
` wild freight pushed into the stream, nobody cared sixpence for the wasted time `
` but the captain of the craft. Huck was already upon his watch when the `
` ferryboat's lights went glinting past the wharf. He heard no noise on board, `
` for the young people were as subdued and still as people usually are who are `
` nearly tired to death. He wondered what boat it was, and why she did not stop `
` at the wharf--and then he dropped her out of his mind and put his attention `
` upon his business. The night was growing cloudy and dark. Ten o'clock came, and `
` the noise of vehicles ceased, scattered lights began to wink out, all `
` straggling foot-passengers disappeared, the village betook itself to its `
` slumbers and left the small watcher alone with the silence and the ghosts. `
` Eleven o'clock came, and the tavern lights were put out; darkness everywhere, `
` now. Huck waited what seemed a weary long time, 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. The `
` alley door closed softly. He sprang to the corner of the brick store. The next `
` moment two men brushed by him, and one seemed to have something under his arm. `
` It must be that box! So they were going to remove the treasure. Why call Tom `
` now? It would be absurd--the men would get away with the box and never be found `
` again. No, he would stick to their wake and follow them; he would trust to the `
` darkness for security from discovery. So communing with himself, Huck stepped `
` out and glided along behind the men, cat-like, with bare feet, allowing them to `
` keep just far enough ahead not to be invisible. They moved up the river street `
` three blocks, then turned to the left up a cross-street. They went straight `
` ahead, then, until they came to the path that led up Cardiff Hill; this they `
` took. They passed by the old Welshman's house, half-way up the hill, without `
` hesitating, and still climbed upward. Good, thought Huck, they will bury it in `
` the old quarry. But they never stopped at the quarry. They passed on, up the `
` summit. They plunged into the narrow path between the tall sumach bushes, and `
` were at once hidden in the gloom. Huck closed up and shortened his distance, `
` now, for they would never be able to see him. He trotted along awhile; then `
` slackened his pace, fearing he was gaining too fast; moved on a piece, then `
` stopped altogether; listened; no sound; none, save that he seemed to hear the `
` beating of his own heart. The hooting of an owl came over the hill--ominous `
` sound! But no footsteps. Heavens, was everything lost! He was about to spring `
` with winged 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 then he stood there `
` shaking as if a dozen agues had taken charge of him at once, and so weak that `
` he thought he must surely fall to the ground. He knew where he was. He knew he `
` was within five steps of the stile leading into Widow Douglas' grounds. Very `
` well, he thought, let them bury 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. A deadly chill went to `
` Huck's heart--this, then, was the "revenge" job! His thought was, to fly. Then `
` he remembered that the Widow Douglas had been kind to him more than once, and `
` maybe these men were going to murder her. He wished he dared venture to warn `
` her; but he knew he didn't dare--they might come and catch him. He thought all `
` this and more in the moment that elapsed between the stranger's remark and `
` Injun Joe's next--which was-- "Because the bush is in your way. Now--this `
` way--now you see, don't you?" "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 and maybe never have another chance. I tell you again, as I've told you `
` before, I don't care for her swag--you may have it. But her husband was rough `
` on me--many times he was rough on me--and mainly he was the justice 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!--horsewhipped in front of the jail, like a `
` nigger!--with all the town looking on! HORSEWHIPPED!--do you understand? He `
` took advantage of me and died. But I'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 was here; but not her. When you want to get revenge on a woman you don't `
` kill her--bosh! you go for her looks. You slit her nostrils--you notch her ears `
` like a sow!" "By God, that's--" "Keep your opinion to yourself! It will be `
` safest for you. I'll tie her 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'll `
` kill you. Do you understand that? And if I have to kill you, I'll kill her--and `
` then I reckon nobody'll ever know much about who done this business." "Well, if `
` it's got to be done, let's get at it. The quicker the better--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's no `
` hurry." Huck felt that a silence was going to ensue--a thing still more awful `
` than any amount of murderous talk; so he held his breath and stepped gingerly `
` back; planted his foot carefully and firmly, after balancing, one-legged, in a `
` precarious way and almost toppling over, first on one side and then on the `
` other. He took another step back, with the same elaboration and the same risks; `
` then another and another, and--a twig snapped under his foot! His breath `
` stopped and he listened. There was no sound--the stillness was perfect. His `
` gratitude was measureless. Now he turned in his tracks, between the walls of `
` sumach bushes--turned himself as carefully as if he were a ship--and then `
` stepped quickly but cautiously along. When he emerged at the quarry he felt `
` secure, and so he picked up his nimble heels and flew. Down, down he sped, till `
` he reached the Welshman's. He banged at the door, and presently the heads of `
` 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, I judge! 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 he got in. "Please don't--I'd be killed, `
` sure--but the widow's been good friends to me sometimes, and I want to tell--I `
` WILL tell if you'll promise 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 the hill, and just entering the sumach path on `
` tiptoe, their weapons in their hands. Huck accompanied them no further. He hid `
` behind a great bowlder 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 hill as fast `
` as his legs could carry him. CHAPTER XXX AS the earliest suspicion of dawn `
` appeared on Sunday morning, Huck came 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 a hair-trigger, on account of the exciting episode of the night. A call `
` came 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 the pleasantest he had ever heard. He could not recollect that `
` the closing word had ever been applied in his case before. The door was quickly `
` unlocked, and he entered. Huck was given a seat and the old man and his brace `
` of tall sons speedily dressed themselves. "Now, my boy, I hope you're good and `
` hungry, because breakfast will be ready 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 and stop here last night." "I was awful scared," said Huck, "and `
` I run. I took out when the pistols went off, and I didn't stop for three mile. `
` I've come now becuz I wanted to know about it, you know; and I come before `
` daylight becuz I didn'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--but there's a `
` bed here for you when you've had your breakfast. No, they ain't dead, lad--we `
` are sorry enough for that. You see we knew right where to put our hands on `
` them, by your description; so we crept along on tiptoe till we got within `
` fifteen feet of them--dark as a cellar that sumach path was--and just then I `
` found I was going to sneeze. It was 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 pistol raised, and when the sneeze started those scoundrels a-rustling `
` to get out of the path, I sung out, 'Fire boys!' and blazed away at the place `
` where 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 we never touched `
` them. They fired a shot apiece as they started, but their bullets whizzed by `
` and didn't do us any harm. As soon as we lost the sound of their feet we quit `
` chasing, and went down and stirred up the constables. They got a posse `
` together, and went off to guard the river bank, and as soon as it is light the `
` sheriff and a gang are going to beat up the woods. My boys will be with them `
` presently. I wish we had some 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 or twice, and t'other's a mean-looking, ragged--" "That's `
` enough, lad, we know the men! Happened on them in the woods back 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 room Huck 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 of what 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 too much about one of those men and `
` would not have the man know that he knew anything against him for the whole `
` world--he would be killed for knowing it, sure. The old man promised secrecy `
` once more, and said: "How did you come to follow these fellows, lad? Were they `
` looking suspicious?" 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, on `
` account of thinking about it and sort of trying to strike out a new way of `
` doing. That was the way of it last night. I couldn't sleep, and so I come along `
` up-street 'bout midnight, a-turning it all over, and when I got to that old `
` shackly brick store by the Temperance Tavern, I backed up agin the wall to have `
` another think. Well, just then along comes these two chaps slipping along close `
` by me, with something under their arm, and I reckoned they'd stole it. One was `
` a-smoking, and t'other one wanted a light; so they stopped right before me and `
`
` inclination and not allow himself to think of the box of money another time `
` that day. Three miles below town the ferryboat stopped at the mouth of a woody `
` hollow and tied up. The crowd swarmed ashore and soon the forest distances and `
` craggy heights echoed far and near with shoutings and laughter. All the `
` different ways of getting hot and tired were gone through with, and by-and-by `
` the rovers straggled back to camp fortified with responsible appetites, and `
` then the destruction of the good things began. After the feast there was a `
` refreshing season of rest and chat in 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 there was a general scamper up the hill. The `
` mouth of the cave was up the hillside--an opening shaped like a letter A. Its `
` massive oaken door stood unbarred. Within was a small chamber, chilly as an `
` ice-house, and walled 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 look `
` out upon the green valley shining in the sun. But the impressiveness of the `
` situation quickly wore off, and the romping began again. The moment a candle `
` was lighted there was a general rush upon the owner of it; a struggle and a `
` gallant defence followed, but the candle was soon knocked down or blown out, `
` and then there was a glad clamor of laughter and a new chase. But all things `
` have an end. By-and-by the procession went filing down the steep descent of the `
` main avenue, the flickering rank of lights dimly revealing the lofty walls of `
` rock almost to their point of junction sixty feet overhead. This main avenue `
` was not more than eight or ten feet wide. Every few steps other lofty and still `
` narrower crevices branched from it on either hand--for McDougal's cave was but `
` a vast labyrinth of crooked aisles that ran into each other and out again and `
` led nowhere. It was said that one might wander days and nights together through `
` its intricate tangle of rifts and chasms, and never 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--labyrinth under 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 of it, 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 a mile, and then groups and `
` couples began to slip aside into branch avenues, fly along the dismal `
` corridors, and take each other by surprise at points where the corridors joined `
` again. Parties were able to elude each other for the space of half an hour `
` without going beyond the "known" ground. By-and-by, one group after another `
` came straggling back to the mouth of the cave, panting, hilarious, smeared from `
` head to foot with tallow drippings, daubed with clay, and entirely delighted `
` with the success of the day. Then they were astonished to find that they had `
` been taking no note of time and that night was about at hand. The clanging bell `
` had been calling for half an hour. However, this sort of close to the day's `
` adventures was romantic and therefore satisfactory. When the ferryboat with her `
` wild freight pushed into the stream, nobody cared sixpence for the wasted time `
` but the captain of the craft. Huck was already upon his watch when the `
` ferryboat's lights went glinting past the wharf. He heard no noise on board, `
` for the young people were as subdued and still as people usually are who are `
` nearly tired to death. He wondered what boat it was, and why she did not stop `
` at the wharf--and then he dropped her out of his mind and put his attention `
` upon his business. The night was growing cloudy and dark. Ten o'clock came, and `
` the noise of vehicles ceased, scattered lights began to wink out, all `
` straggling foot-passengers disappeared, the village betook itself to its `
` slumbers and left the small watcher alone with the silence and the ghosts. `
` Eleven o'clock came, and the tavern lights were put out; darkness everywhere, `
` now. Huck waited what seemed a weary long time, 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. The `
` alley door closed softly. He sprang to the corner of the brick store. The next `
` moment two men brushed by him, and one seemed to have something under his arm. `
` It must be that box! So they were going to remove the treasure. Why call Tom `
` now? It would be absurd--the men would get away with the box and never be found `
` again. No, he would stick to their wake and follow them; he would trust to the `
` darkness for security from discovery. So communing with himself, Huck stepped `
` out and glided along behind the men, cat-like, with bare feet, allowing them to `
` keep just far enough ahead not to be invisible. They moved up the river street `
` three blocks, then turned to the left up a cross-street. They went straight `
` ahead, then, until they came to the path that led up Cardiff Hill; this they `
` took. They passed by the old Welshman's house, half-way up the hill, without `
` hesitating, and still climbed upward. Good, thought Huck, they will bury it in `
` the old quarry. But they never stopped at the quarry. They passed on, up the `
` summit. They plunged into the narrow path between the tall sumach bushes, and `
` were at once hidden in the gloom. Huck closed up and shortened his distance, `
` now, for they would never be able to see him. He trotted along awhile; then `
` slackened his pace, fearing he was gaining too fast; moved on a piece, then `
` stopped altogether; listened; no sound; none, save that he seemed to hear the `
` beating of his own heart. The hooting of an owl came over the hill--ominous `
` sound! But no footsteps. Heavens, was everything lost! He was about to spring `
` with winged 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 then he stood there `
` shaking as if a dozen agues had taken charge of him at once, and so weak that `
` he thought he must surely fall to the ground. He knew where he was. He knew he `
` was within five steps of the stile leading into Widow Douglas' grounds. Very `
` well, he thought, let them bury 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. A deadly chill went to `
` Huck's heart--this, then, was the "revenge" job! His thought was, to fly. Then `
` he remembered that the Widow Douglas had been kind to him more than once, and `
` maybe these men were going to murder her. He wished he dared venture to warn `
` her; but he knew he didn't dare--they might come and catch him. He thought all `
` this and more in the moment that elapsed between the stranger's remark and `
` Injun Joe's next--which was-- "Because the bush is in your way. Now--this `
` way--now you see, don't you?" "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 and maybe never have another chance. I tell you again, as I've told you `
` before, I don't care for her swag--you may have it. But her husband was rough `
` on me--many times he was rough on me--and mainly he was the justice 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!--horsewhipped in front of the jail, like a `
` nigger!--with all the town looking on! HORSEWHIPPED!--do you understand? He `
` took advantage of me and died. But I'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 was here; but not her. When you want to get revenge on a woman you don't `
` kill her--bosh! you go for her looks. You slit her nostrils--you notch her ears `
` like a sow!" "By God, that's--" "Keep your opinion to yourself! It will be `
` safest for you. I'll tie her 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'll `
` kill you. Do you understand that? And if I have to kill you, I'll kill her--and `
` then I reckon nobody'll ever know much about who done this business." "Well, if `
` it's got to be done, let's get at it. The quicker the better--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's no `
` hurry." Huck felt that a silence was going to ensue--a thing still more awful `
` than any amount of murderous talk; so he held his breath and stepped gingerly `
` back; planted his foot carefully and firmly, after balancing, one-legged, in a `
` precarious way and almost toppling over, first on one side and then on the `
` other. He took another step back, with the same elaboration and the same risks; `
` then another and another, and--a twig snapped under his foot! His breath `
` stopped and he listened. There was no sound--the stillness was perfect. His `
` gratitude was measureless. Now he turned in his tracks, between the walls of `
` sumach bushes--turned himself as carefully as if he were a ship--and then `
` stepped quickly but cautiously along. When he emerged at the quarry he felt `
` secure, and so he picked up his nimble heels and flew. Down, down he sped, till `
` he reached the Welshman's. He banged at the door, and presently the heads of `
` 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, I judge! 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 he got in. "Please don't--I'd be killed, `
` sure--but the widow's been good friends to me sometimes, and I want to tell--I `
` WILL tell if you'll promise 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 the hill, and just entering the sumach path on `
` tiptoe, their weapons in their hands. Huck accompanied them no further. He hid `
` behind a great bowlder 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 hill as fast `
` as his legs could carry him. CHAPTER XXX AS the earliest suspicion of dawn `
` appeared on Sunday morning, Huck came 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 a hair-trigger, on account of the exciting episode of the night. A call `
` came 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 the pleasantest he had ever heard. He could not recollect that `
` the closing word had ever been applied in his case before. The door was quickly `
` unlocked, and he entered. Huck was given a seat and the old man and his brace `
` of tall sons speedily dressed themselves. "Now, my boy, I hope you're good and `
` hungry, because breakfast will be ready 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 and stop here last night." "I was awful scared," said Huck, "and `
` I run. I took out when the pistols went off, and I didn't stop for three mile. `
` I've come now becuz I wanted to know about it, you know; and I come before `
` daylight becuz I didn'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--but there's a `
` bed here for you when you've had your breakfast. No, they ain't dead, lad--we `
` are sorry enough for that. You see we knew right where to put our hands on `
` them, by your description; so we crept along on tiptoe till we got within `
` fifteen feet of them--dark as a cellar that sumach path was--and just then I `
` found I was going to sneeze. It was 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 pistol raised, and when the sneeze started those scoundrels a-rustling `
` to get out of the path, I sung out, 'Fire boys!' and blazed away at the place `
` where 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 we never touched `
` them. They fired a shot apiece as they started, but their bullets whizzed by `
` and didn't do us any harm. As soon as we lost the sound of their feet we quit `
` chasing, and went down and stirred up the constables. They got a posse `
` together, and went off to guard the river bank, and as soon as it is light the `
` sheriff and a gang are going to beat up the woods. My boys will be with them `
` presently. I wish we had some 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 or twice, and t'other's a mean-looking, ragged--" "That's `
` enough, lad, we know the men! Happened on them in the woods back 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 room Huck 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 of what 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 too much about one of those men and `
` would not have the man know that he knew anything against him for the whole `
` world--he would be killed for knowing it, sure. The old man promised secrecy `
` once more, and said: "How did you come to follow these fellows, lad? Were they `
` looking suspicious?" 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, on `
` account of thinking about it and sort of trying to strike out a new way of `
` doing. That was the way of it last night. I couldn't sleep, and so I come along `
` up-street 'bout midnight, a-turning it all over, and when I got to that old `
` shackly brick store by the Temperance Tavern, I backed up agin the wall to have `
` another think. Well, just then along comes these two chaps slipping along close `
` by me, with something under their arm, and I reckoned they'd stole it. One was `
` a-smoking, and t'other one wanted a light; so they stopped right before me and `
`