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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, Part 3.
+by Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens)
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, Part 3.
+
+Author: Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens)
+
+Release Date: June 29, 2004 [EBook #7195]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOM SAWYER, PART 3. ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+                    THE ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER
+                                BY
+                            MARK TWAIN
+                     (Samuel Langhorne Clemens)
+
+                              Part 3
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+TOM dodged hither and thither through lanes until he was well out of
+the track of returning scholars, and then fell into a moody jog. He
+crossed a small "branch" two or three times, because of a prevailing
+juvenile superstition that to cross water baffled pursuit. Half an hour
+later he was disappearing behind the Douglas mansion on the summit of
+Cardiff Hill, and the schoolhouse was hardly distinguishable away off
+in the valley behind him. He entered a dense wood, picked his pathless
+way to the centre of it, and sat down on a mossy spot under a spreading
+oak. There was not even a zephyr stirring; the dead noonday heat had
+even stilled the songs of the birds; nature lay in a trance that was
+broken by no sound but the occasional far-off hammering of a
+woodpecker, and this seemed to render the pervading silence and sense
+of loneliness the more profound. The boy's soul was steeped in
+melancholy; his feelings were in happy accord with his surroundings. He
+sat 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, and
+he more than half envied Jimmy Hodges, so lately released; it must be
+very peaceful, he thought, to lie and slumber and dream forever and
+ever, with the wind whispering through the trees and caressing the
+grass and the flowers over the grave, and nothing to bother and grieve
+about, ever any more. If he only had a clean Sunday-school record he
+could 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 been
+treated like a dog--like a very dog. She would be sorry some day--maybe
+when it was too late. Ah, if he could only die TEMPORARILY!
+
+But the elastic heart of youth cannot be compressed into one
+constrained shape long at a time. Tom presently began to drift
+insensibly back into the concerns of this life again. What if he turned
+his back, now, and disappeared mysteriously? What if he went away--ever
+so far away, into unknown countries beyond the seas--and never came
+back any more! How would she feel then! The idea of being a clown
+recurred to him now, only to fill him with disgust. For frivolity and
+jokes and spotted tights were an offense, when they intruded themselves
+upon a spirit that was exalted into the vague august realm of the
+romantic. No, he would be a soldier, and return after long years, all
+war-worn and illustrious. No--better still, he would join the Indians,
+and hunt buffaloes and go on the warpath in the mountain ranges and the
+trackless great plains of the Far West, and away in the future come
+back a great chief, bristling with feathers, hideous with paint, and
+prance into Sunday-school, some drowsy summer morning, with a
+bloodcurdling war-whoop, and sear the eyeballs of all his companions
+with unappeasable envy. But no, there was something gaudier even than
+this. He would be a pirate! That was it! NOW his future lay plain
+before him, and glowing with unimaginable splendor. How his name would
+fill the world, and make people shudder! How gloriously he would go
+plowing the dancing seas, in his long, low, black-hulled racer, the
+Spirit of the Storm, with his grisly flag flying at the fore! And at
+the zenith of his fame, how he would suddenly appear at the old village
+and stalk into church, brown and weather-beaten, in his black velvet
+doublet and trunks, his great jack-boots, his crimson sash, his belt
+bristling with horse-pistols, his crime-rusted cutlass at his side, his
+slouch hat with waving plumes, his black flag unfurled, with the skull
+and 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 from
+home and enter upon it. He would start the very next morning. Therefore
+he must now begin to get ready. He would collect his resources
+together. He went to a rotten log near at hand and began to dig under
+one end of it with his Barlow knife. He soon struck wood that sounded
+hollow. 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 it
+up and disclosed a shapely little treasure-house whose bottom and sides
+were 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. The
+truth was, that a superstition of his had failed, here, which he and
+all his comrades had always looked upon as infallible. If you buried a
+marble with certain necessary incantations, and left it alone a
+fortnight, and then opened the place with the incantation he had just
+used, you would find that all the marbles you had ever lost had
+gathered themselves together there, meantime, no matter how widely they
+had been separated. But now, this thing had actually and unquestionably
+failed. Tom's whole structure of faith was shaken to its foundations.
+He had many a time heard of this thing succeeding but never of its
+failing before. It did not occur to him that he had tried it several
+times before, himself, but could never find the hiding-places
+afterward. He puzzled over the matter some time, and finally decided
+that some witch had interfered and broken the charm. He thought he
+would satisfy himself on that point; so he searched around till he
+found a small sandy spot with a little funnel-shaped depression in it.
+He laid himself down and put his mouth close to this depression and
+called--
+
+"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 a
+second 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 he
+gave up discouraged. But it occurred to him that he might as well have
+the marble he had just thrown away, and therefore he went and made a
+patient search for it. But he could not find it. Now he went back to
+his treasure-house and carefully placed himself just as he had been
+standing when he tossed the marble away; then he took another marble
+from 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 must
+have fallen short or gone too far; so he tried twice more. The last
+repetition was successful. The two marbles lay within a foot of each
+other.
+
+Just here the blast of a toy tin trumpet came faintly down the green
+aisles of the forest. Tom flung off his jacket and trousers, turned a
+suspender 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 in
+a moment had seized these things and bounded away, barelegged, with
+fluttering shirt. He presently halted under a great elm, blew an
+answering blast, and then began to tiptoe and look warily out, this way
+and 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 dispute
+with 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, careful
+combat, "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 and
+by Tom shouted:
+
+"Fall! fall! Why don't you fall?"
+
+"I sha'n't! Why don't you fall yourself? You're getting the worst of
+it."
+
+"Why, that ain't anything. I can't fall; that ain't the way it is in
+the book. The book says, 'Then with one back-handed stroke he slew poor
+Guy of Guisborne.' You're to turn around and let me hit you in the
+back."
+
+There was no getting around the authorities, so Joe turned, received
+the 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, and
+lam me with a quarter-staff; or I'll be the Sheriff of Nottingham and
+you be Robin Hood a little while and kill me."
+
+This was satisfactory, and so these adventures were carried out. Then
+Tom became Robin Hood again, and was allowed by the treacherous nun to
+bleed 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 arrow
+falls, there bury poor Robin Hood under the greenwood tree." Then he
+shot the arrow and fell back and would have died, but he lit on a
+nettle and sprang up too gaily for a corpse.
+
+The boys dressed themselves, hid their accoutrements, and went off
+grieving that there were no outlaws any more, and wondering what modern
+civilization could claim to have done to compensate for their loss.
+They said they would rather be outlaws a year in Sherwood Forest than
+President 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 and
+waited, in restless impatience. When it seemed to him that it must be
+nearly daylight, he heard the clock strike ten! This was despair. He
+would have tossed and fidgeted, as his nerves demanded, but he was
+afraid 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 ticking
+of the clock began to bring itself into notice. Old beams began to
+crack mysteriously. The stairs creaked faintly. Evidently spirits were
+abroad. A measured, muffled snore issued from Aunt Polly's chamber. And
+now the tiresome chirping of a cricket that no human ingenuity could
+locate, began. Next the ghastly ticking of a deathwatch in the wall at
+the bed's head made Tom shudder--it meant that somebody's days were
+numbered. Then the howl of a far-off dog rose on the night air, and was
+answered by a fainter howl from a remoter distance. Tom was in an
+agony. At last he was satisfied that time had ceased and eternity
+begun; he began to doze, in spite of himself; the clock chimed eleven,
+but he did not hear it. And then there came, mingling with his
+half-formed dreams, a most melancholy caterwauling. The raising of a
+neighboring window disturbed him. A cry of "Scat! you devil!" and the
+crash of an empty bottle against the back of his aunt's woodshed
+brought him wide awake, and a single minute later he was dressed and
+out of the window and creeping along the roof of the "ell" on all
+fours. He "meow'd" with caution once or twice, as he went; then jumped
+to the roof of the woodshed and thence to the ground. Huckleberry Finn
+was there, with his dead cat. The boys moved off and disappeared in the
+gloom. At the end of half an hour they were wading through the tall
+grass of the graveyard.
+
+It was a graveyard of the old-fashioned Western kind. It was on a
+hill, about a mile and a half from the village. It had a crazy board
+fence around it, which leaned inward in places, and outward the rest of
+the time, but stood upright nowhere. Grass and weeds grew rank over the
+whole cemetery. All the old graves were sunken in, there was not a
+tombstone on the place; round-topped, worm-eaten boards staggered over
+the graves, leaning for support and finding none. "Sacred to the memory
+of" So-and-So had been painted on them once, but it could no longer
+have 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 the
+spirits of the dead, complaining at being disturbed. The boys talked
+little, and only under their breath, for the time and the place and the
+pervading solemnity and silence oppressed their spirits. They found the
+sharp new heap they were seeking, and ensconced themselves within the
+protection of three great elms that grew in a bunch within a few feet
+of the grave.
+
+Then they waited in silence for what seemed a long time. The hooting
+of a distant owl was all the sound that troubled the dead stillness.
+Tom's reflections grew oppressive. He must force some talk. So he said
+in 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 matter
+inwardly. 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 dead
+people, 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't
+come."
+
+"Oh, don't be afeard. I don't believe they'll bother us. We ain't
+doing any harm. If we keep perfectly still, maybe they won't notice us
+at 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 muffled
+sound 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 an
+old-fashioned tin lantern that freckled the ground with innumerable
+little spangles of light. Presently Huckleberry whispered with a
+shudder:
+
+"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. 'Now
+I 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's
+voice."
+
+"No--'tain't so, is it?"
+
+"I bet I know it. Don't you stir nor budge. He ain't sharp enough to
+notice us. Drunk, the same as usual, likely--blamed old rip!"
+
+"All right, I'll keep still. Now they're stuck. Can't find it. Here
+they 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' them
+voices; it's Injun Joe."
+
+"That's so--that murderin' half-breed! I'd druther they was devils a
+dern sight. What kin they be up to?"
+
+The whisper died wholly out, now, for the three men had reached the
+grave and stood within a few feet of the boys' hiding-place.
+
+"Here it is," said the third voice; and the owner of it held the
+lantern up and revealed the face of young Doctor Robinson.
+
+Potter and Injun Joe were carrying a handbarrow with a rope and a
+couple of shovels on it. They cast down their load and began to open
+the grave. The doctor put the lantern at the head of the grave and came
+and sat down with his back against one of the elm trees. He was so
+close the boys could have touched him.
+
+"Hurry, men!" he said, in a low voice; "the moon might come out at any
+moment."
+
+They growled a response and went on digging. For some time there was
+no noise but the grating sound of the spades discharging their freight
+of mould and gravel. It was very monotonous. Finally a spade struck
+upon the coffin with a dull woody accent, and within another minute or
+two the men had hoisted it out on the ground. They pried off the lid
+with their shovels, got out the body and dumped it rudely on the
+ground. The moon drifted from behind the clouds and exposed the pallid
+face. The barrow was got ready and the corpse placed on it, covered
+with a blanket, and bound to its place with the rope. Potter took out a
+large spring-knife and cut off the dangling end of the rope and then
+said:
+
+"Now the cussed thing's ready, Sawbones, and you'll just out with
+another five, or here she stays."
+
+"That's the talk!" said Injun Joe.
+
+"Look here, what does this mean?" said the doctor. "You required your
+pay in advance, and I've paid you."
+
+"Yes, and you done more than that," said Injun Joe, approaching the
+doctor, who was now standing. "Five years ago you drove me away from
+your father's kitchen one night, when I come to ask for something to
+eat, and you said I warn't there for any good; and when I swore I'd get
+even with you if it took a hundred years, your father had me jailed for
+a vagrant. Did you think I'd forget? The Injun blood ain't in me for
+nothing. 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 this
+time. The doctor struck out suddenly and stretched the ruffian on the
+ground. Potter dropped his knife, and exclaimed:
+
+"Here, now, don't you hit my pard!" and the next moment he had
+grappled with the doctor and the two were struggling with might and
+main, trampling the grass and tearing the ground with their heels.
+Injun Joe sprang to his feet, his eyes flaming with passion, snatched
+up Potter's knife, and went creeping, catlike and stooping, round and
+round about the combatants, seeking an opportunity. All at once the
+doctor flung himself free, seized the heavy headboard of Williams'
+grave and felled Potter to the earth with it--and in the same instant
+the half-breed saw his chance and drove the knife to the hilt in the
+young man's breast. He reeled and fell partly upon Potter, flooding him
+with his blood, and in the same moment the clouds blotted out the
+dreadful spectacle and the two frightened boys went speeding away in
+the dark.
+
+Presently, when the moon emerged again, Injun Joe was standing over
+the 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 in
+Potter's open right hand, and sat down on the dismantled coffin. Three
+--four--five minutes passed, and then Potter began to stir and moan. His
+hand closed upon the knife; he raised it, glanced at it, and let it
+fall, with a shudder. Then he sat up, pushing the body from him, and
+gazed 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's
+in 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, old
+feller--did I do it? Joe, I never meant to--'pon my soul and honor, I
+never meant to, Joe. Tell me how it was, Joe. Oh, it's awful--and him
+so young and promising."
+
+"Why, you two was scuffling, and he fetched you one with the headboard
+and you fell flat; and then up you come, all reeling and staggering
+like, and snatched the knife and jammed it into him, just as he fetched
+you another awful clip--and here you've laid, as dead as a wedge til
+now."
+
+"Oh, I didn't know what I was a-doing. I wish I may die this minute if
+I did. It was all on account of the whiskey and the excitement, I
+reckon. I never used a weepon in my life before, Joe. I've fought, but
+never with weepons. They'll all say that. Joe, don't tell! Say you
+won't tell, Joe--that's a good feller. I always liked you, Joe, and
+stood 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 stolid
+murderer, and clasped his appealing hands.
+
+"No, you've always been fair and square with me, Muff Potter, and I
+won'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 I
+live." 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 any
+tracks behind you."
+
+Potter started on a trot that quickly increased to a run. The
+half-breed stood looking after him. He muttered:
+
+"If he's as much stunned with the lick and fuddled with the rum as he
+had the look of being, he won't think of the knife till he's gone so
+far 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, the
+lidless coffin, and the open grave were under no inspection but the
+moon's. The stillness was complete again, too.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+THE two boys flew on and on, toward the village, speechless with
+horror. They glanced backward over their shoulders from time to time,
+apprehensively, as if they feared they might be followed. Every stump
+that started up in their path seemed a man and an enemy, and made them
+catch their breath; and as they sped by some outlying cottages that lay
+near the village, the barking of the aroused watch-dogs seemed to give
+wings 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 much
+longer."
+
+Huckleberry's hard pantings were his only reply, and the boys fixed
+their 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 burst
+through the open door and fell grateful and exhausted in the sheltering
+shadows 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 Joe
+DIDN'T hang? Why, he'd kill us some time or other, just as dead sure as
+we'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's
+generally 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 reckon
+he 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; and
+besides, he always has. Well, when pap's full, you might take and belt
+him 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 a
+man 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't
+make any more of drownding us than a couple of cats, if we was to
+squeak 'bout this and they didn't hang him. Now, look-a-here, Tom, less
+take and swear to one another--that's what we got to do--swear to keep
+mum."
+
+"I'm agreed. It's the best thing. Would you just hold hands and swear
+that we--"
+
+"Oh no, that wouldn't do for this. That's good enough for little
+rubbishy common things--specially with gals, cuz THEY go back on you
+anyway, 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, and
+awful; the hour, the circumstances, the surroundings, were in keeping
+with 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 on
+his work, and painfully scrawled these lines, emphasizing each slow
+down-stroke by clamping his tongue between his teeth, and letting up
+the 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 lapel
+and was going to prick his flesh, but Tom said:
+
+"Hold on! Don't do that. A pin's brass. It might have verdigrease on
+it."
+
+"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 boy
+pricked the ball of his thumb and squeezed out a drop of blood. In
+time, after many squeezes, Tom managed to sign his initials, using the
+ball of his little finger for a pen. Then he showed Huckleberry how to
+make an H and an F, and the oath was complete. They buried the shingle
+close to the wall, with some dismal ceremonies and incantations, and
+the fetters that bound their tongues were considered to be locked and
+the key thrown away.
+
+A figure crept stealthily through a break in the other end of the
+ruined 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 got
+to 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 up
+a long, lugubrious howl just outside--within ten feet of them. The boys
+clasped 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 Bull
+Harbison." *
+
+[* If Mr. Harbison owned a slave named Bull, Tom would have spoken of
+him as "Harbison's Bull," but a son or a dog of that name was "Bull
+Harbison."]
+
+"Oh, that's good--I tell you, Tom, I was most scared to death; I'd a
+bet 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. His
+whisper 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 'bout
+where I'LL go to. I been so wicked."
+
+"Dad fetch it! This comes of playing hookey and doing everything a
+feller'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 lay
+I'll just WALLER in Sunday-schools!" And Tom began to snuffle a little.
+
+"YOU bad!" and Huckleberry began to snuffle too. "Consound it, Tom
+Sawyer, 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 to
+sleep there, sometimes, 'long with the hogs, but laws bless you, he
+just lifts things when HE snores. Besides, I reckon he ain't ever
+coming 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 the
+boys agreed to try, with the understanding that they would take to
+their heels if the snoring stopped. So they went tiptoeing stealthily
+down, the one behind the other. When they had got to within five steps
+of 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 hopes
+too, when the man moved, but their fears passed away now. They tiptoed
+out, through the broken weather-boarding, and stopped at a little
+distance to exchange a parting word. That long, lugubrious howl rose on
+the night air again! They turned and saw the strange dog standing
+within a few feet of where Potter was lying, and FACING Potter, with
+his 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's
+house, 'bout midnight, as much as two weeks ago; and a whippoorwill
+come in and lit on the banisters and sung, the very same evening; and
+there ain't anybody dead there yet."
+
+"Well, I know that. And suppose there ain't. Didn't Gracie Miller fall
+in 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 Muff
+Potter's a goner. That's what the niggers say, and they know all about
+these kind of things, Huck."
+
+Then they separated, cogitating. When Tom crept in at his bedroom
+window the night was almost spent. He undressed with excessive caution,
+and fell asleep congratulating himself that nobody knew of his
+escapade. He was not aware that the gently-snoring Sid was awake, and
+had been so for an hour.
+
+When Tom awoke, Sid was dressed and gone. There was a late look in the
+light, a late sense in the atmosphere. He was startled. Why had he not
+been called--persecuted till he was up, as usual? The thought filled
+him with bodings. Within five minutes he was dressed and down-stairs,
+feeling sore and drowsy. The family were still at table, but they had
+finished breakfast. There was no voice of rebuke; but there were
+averted eyes; there was a silence and an air of solemnity that struck a
+chill to the culprit's heart. He sat down and tried to seem gay, but it
+was up-hill work; it roused no smile, no response, and he lapsed into
+silence and let his heart sink down to the depths.
+
+After breakfast his aunt took him aside, and Tom almost brightened in
+the hope that he was going to be flogged; but it was not so. His aunt
+wept 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 gray
+hairs with sorrow to the grave, for it was no use for her to try any
+more. This was worse than a thousand whippings, and Tom's heart was
+sorer now than his body. He cried, he pleaded for forgiveness, promised
+to reform over and over again, and then received his dismissal, feeling
+that he had won but an imperfect forgiveness and established but a
+feeble confidence.
+
+He left the presence too miserable to even feel revengeful toward Sid;
+and so the latter's prompt retreat through the back gate was
+unnecessary. He moped to school gloomy and sad, and took his flogging,
+along with Joe Harper, for playing hookey the day before, with the air
+of one whose heart was busy with heavier woes and wholly dead to
+trifles. Then he betook himself to his seat, rested his elbows on his
+desk and his jaws in his hands, and stared at the wall with the stony
+stare of suffering that has reached the limit and can no further go.
+His elbow was pressing against some hard substance. After a long time
+he slowly and sadly changed his position, and took up this object with
+a sigh. It was in a paper. He unrolled it. A long, lingering, colossal
+sigh 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 electrified
+with 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 to
+house, with little less than telegraphic speed. Of course the
+schoolmaster gave holiday for that afternoon; the town would have
+thought strangely of him if he had not.
+
+A gory knife had been found close to the murdered man, and it had been
+recognized by somebody as belonging to Muff Potter--so the story ran.
+And it was said that a belated citizen had come upon Potter washing
+himself in the "branch" about one or two o'clock in the morning, and
+that Potter had at once sneaked off--suspicious circumstances,
+especially the washing which was not a habit with Potter. It was also
+said that the town had been ransacked for this "murderer" (the public
+are not slow in the matter of sifting evidence and arriving at a
+verdict), but that he could not be found. Horsemen had departed down
+all the roads in every direction, and the Sheriff "was confident" that
+he would be captured before night.
+
+All the town was drifting toward the graveyard. Tom's heartbreak
+vanished and he joined the procession, not because he would not a
+thousand 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 dismal
+spectacle. It seemed to him an age since he was there before. Somebody
+pinched his arm. He turned, and his eyes met Huckleberry's. Then both
+looked elsewhere at once, and wondered if anybody had noticed anything
+in their mutual glance. But everybody was talking, and intent upon the
+grisly spectacle before them.
+
+"Poor fellow!" "Poor young fellow!" "This ought to be a lesson to
+grave robbers!" "Muff Potter'll hang for this if they catch him!" This
+was the drift of remark; and the minister said, "It was a judgment; His
+hand is here."
+
+Now Tom shivered from head to heel; for his eye fell upon the stolid
+face 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't
+trying to get away--he only looked doubtful and perplexed.
+
+"Infernal impudence!" said a bystander; "wanted to come and take a
+quiet 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 was
+haggard, and his eyes showed the fear that was upon him. When he stood
+before the murdered man, he shook as with a palsy, and he put his face
+in his hands and burst into tears.
+
+"I didn't do it, friends," he sobbed; "'pon my word and honor I never
+done it."
+
+"Who's accused you?" shouted a voice.
+
+This shot seemed to carry home. Potter lifted his face and looked
+around 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 to
+the 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 the
+stony-hearted liar reel off his serene statement, they expecting every
+moment 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 had
+finished and still stood alive and whole, their wavering impulse to
+break their oath and save the poor betrayed prisoner's life faded and
+vanished away, for plainly this miscreant had sold himself to Satan and
+it 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?" somebody
+said.
+
+"I couldn't help it--I couldn't help it," Potter moaned. "I wanted to
+run away, but I couldn't seem to come anywhere but here." And he fell
+to sobbing again.
+
+Injun Joe repeated his statement, just as calmly, a few minutes
+afterward on the inquest, under oath; and the boys, seeing that the
+lightnings were still withheld, were confirmed in their belief that Joe
+had sold himself to the devil. He was now become, to them, the most
+balefully interesting object they had ever looked upon, and they could
+not take their fascinated eyes from his face.
+
+They inwardly resolved to watch him nights, when opportunity should
+offer, 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 a
+wagon for removal; and it was whispered through the shuddering crowd
+that the wound bled a little! The boys thought that this happy
+circumstance would turn suspicion in the right direction; but they were
+disappointed, 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 as
+much 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 me
+awake half the time."
+
+Tom blanched and dropped his eyes.
+
+"It's a bad sign," said Aunt Polly, gravely. "What you got on your
+mind, Tom?"
+
+"Nothing. Nothing 't I know of." But the boy's hand shook so that he
+spilled his coffee.
+
+"And you do talk such stuff," Sid said. "Last night you said, 'It's
+blood, it's blood, that's what it is!' You said that over and over. And
+you said, 'Don't torment me so--I'll tell!' Tell WHAT? What is it
+you'll tell?"
+
+Everything was swimming before Tom. There is no telling what might
+have happened, now, but luckily the concern passed out of Aunt Polly's
+face and she came to Tom's relief without knowing it. She said:
+
+"Sho! It's that dreadful murder. I dream about it most every night
+myself. Sometimes I dream it's me that done it."
+
+Mary said she had been affected much the same way. Sid seemed
+satisfied. 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 his
+jaws every night. He never knew that Sid lay nightly watching, and
+frequently slipped the bandage free and then leaned on his elbow
+listening a good while at a time, and afterward slipped the bandage
+back to its place again. Tom's distress of mind wore off gradually and
+the toothache grew irksome and was discarded. If Sid really managed to
+make anything out of Tom's disjointed mutterings, he kept it to himself.
+
+It seemed to Tom that his schoolmates never would get done holding
+inquests on dead cats, and thus keeping his trouble present to his
+mind. 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 was
+strange; and Sid did not overlook the fact that Tom even showed a
+marked aversion to these inquests, and always avoided them when he
+could. Sid marvelled, but said nothing. However, even inquests went out
+of vogue at last, and ceased to torture Tom's conscience.
+
+Every day or two, during this time of sorrow, Tom watched his
+opportunity and went to the little grated jail-window and smuggled such
+small comforts through to the "murderer" as he could get hold of. The
+jail was a trifling little brick den that stood in a marsh at the edge
+of the village, and no guards were afforded for it; indeed, it was
+seldom occupied. These offerings greatly helped to ease Tom's
+conscience.
+
+The villagers had a strong desire to tar-and-feather Injun Joe and
+ride him on a rail, for body-snatching, but so formidable was his
+character that nobody could be found who was willing to take the lead
+in the matter, so it was dropped. He had been careful to begin both of
+his inquest-statements with the fight, without confessing the
+grave-robbery that preceded it; therefore it was deemed wisest not
+to try the case in the courts at present.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+ONE of the reasons why Tom's mind had drifted away from its secret
+troubles was, that it had found a new and weighty matter to interest
+itself about. Becky Thatcher had stopped coming to school. Tom had
+struggled with his pride a few days, and tried to "whistle her down the
+wind," but failed. He began to find himself hanging around her father's
+house, nights, and feeling very miserable. She was ill. What if she
+should die! There was distraction in the thought. He no longer took an
+interest in war, nor even in piracy. The charm of life was gone; there
+was 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 to
+try all manner of remedies on him. She was one of those people who are
+infatuated with patent medicines and all new-fangled methods of
+producing health or mending it. She was an inveterate experimenter in
+these things. When something fresh in this line came out she was in a
+fever, 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 ignorance
+they were inflated with was breath to her nostrils. All the "rot" they
+contained 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, and
+what frame of mind to keep one's self in, and what sort of clothing to
+wear, was all gospel to her, and she never observed that her
+health-journals of the current month customarily upset everything they
+had recommended the month before. She was as simple-hearted and honest
+as the day was long, and so she was an easy victim. She gathered
+together her quack periodicals and her quack medicines, and thus armed
+with death, went about on her pale horse, metaphorically speaking, with
+"hell following after." But she never suspected that she was not an
+angel of healing and the balm of Gilead in disguise, to the suffering
+neighbors.
+
+The water treatment was new, now, and Tom's low condition was a
+windfall to her. She had him out at daylight every morning, stood him
+up in the woodshed and drowned him with a deluge of cold water; then
+she 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 blankets
+till she sweated his soul clean and "the yellow stains of it came
+through his pores"--as Tom said.
+
+Yet notwithstanding all this, the boy grew more and more melancholy
+and pale and dejected. She added hot baths, sitz baths, shower baths,
+and plunges. The boy remained as dismal as a hearse. She began to
+assist the water with a slim oatmeal diet and blister-plasters. She
+calculated his capacity as she would a jug's, and filled him up every
+day with quack cure-alls.
+
+Tom had become indifferent to persecution by this time. This phase
+filled the old lady's heart with consternation. This indifference must
+be broken up at any cost. Now she heard of Pain-killer for the first
+time. She ordered a lot at once. She tasted it and was filled with
+gratitude. It was simply fire in a liquid form. She dropped the water
+treatment and everything else, and pinned her faith to Pain-killer. She
+gave Tom a teaspoonful and watched with the deepest anxiety for the
+result. Her troubles were instantly at rest, her soul at peace again;
+for the "indifference" was broken up. The boy could not have shown a
+wilder, heartier interest, if she had built a fire under him.
+
+Tom felt that it was time to wake up; this sort of life might be
+romantic enough, in his blighted condition, but it was getting to have
+too little sentiment and too much distracting variety about it. So he
+thought over various plans for relief, and finally hit pon that of
+professing to be fond of Pain-killer. He asked for it so often that he
+became a nuisance, and his aunt ended by telling him to help himself
+and quit bothering her. If it had been Sid, she would have had no
+misgivings to alloy her delight; but since it was Tom, she watched the
+bottle clandestinely. She found that the medicine did really diminish,
+but it did not occur to her that the boy was mending the health of a
+crack in the sitting-room floor with it.
+
+One day Tom was in the act of dosing the crack when his aunt's yellow
+cat came along, purring, eying the teaspoon avariciously, and begging
+for 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't
+anything mean about me; but if you find you don't like it, you mustn't
+blame anybody but your own self."
+
+Peter was agreeable. So Tom pried his mouth open and poured down the
+Pain-killer. Peter sprang a couple of yards in the air, and then
+delivered a war-whoop and set off round and round the room, banging
+against furniture, upsetting flower-pots, and making general havoc.
+Next he rose on his hind feet and pranced around, in a frenzy of
+enjoyment, with his head over his shoulder and his voice proclaiming
+his unappeasable happiness. Then he went tearing around the house again
+spreading chaos and destruction in his path. Aunt Polly entered in time
+to see him throw a few double summersets, deliver a final mighty
+hurrah, and sail through the open window, carrying the rest of the
+flower-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 having
+a good time."
+
+"They do, do they?" There was something in the tone that made Tom
+apprehensive.
+
+"Yes'm. That is, I believe they do."
+
+"You DO?"
+
+"Yes'm."
+
+The old lady was bending down, Tom watching, with interest emphasized
+by anxiety. Too late he divined her "drift." The handle of the telltale
+teaspoon was visible under the bed-valance. Aunt Polly took it, held it
+up. Tom winced, and dropped his eyes. Aunt Polly raised him by the
+usual 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 a
+roasted his bowels out of him 'thout any more feeling than if he was a
+human!"
+
+Aunt Polly felt a sudden pang of remorse. This was putting the thing
+in 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 peeping
+through 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 you
+try and see if you can't be a good boy, for once, and you needn't take
+any more medicine."
+
+Tom reached school ahead of time. It was noticed that this strange
+thing had been occurring every day latterly. And now, as usual of late,
+he hung about the gate of the schoolyard instead of playing with his
+comrades. He was sick, he said, and he looked it. He tried to seem to
+be looking everywhere but whither he really was looking--down the road.
+Presently Jeff Thatcher hove in sight, and Tom's face lighted; he gazed
+a moment, and then turned sorrowfully away. When Jeff arrived, Tom
+accosted him; and "led up" warily to opportunities for remark about
+Becky, but the giddy lad never could see the bait. Tom watched and
+watched, hoping whenever a frisking frock came in sight, and hating the
+owner of it as soon as he saw she was not the right one. At last frocks
+ceased to appear, and he dropped hopelessly into the dumps; he entered
+the empty schoolhouse and sat down to suffer. Then one more frock
+passed in at the gate, and Tom's heart gave a great bound. The next
+instant he was out, and "going on" like an Indian; yelling, laughing,
+chasing boys, jumping over the fence at risk of life and limb, throwing
+handsprings, standing on his head--doing all the heroic things he could
+conceive of, and keeping a furtive eye out, all the while, to see if
+Becky Thatcher was noticing. But she seemed to be unconscious of it
+all; she never looked. Could it be possible that she was not aware that
+he was there? He carried his exploits to her immediate vicinity; came
+war-whooping around, snatched a boy's cap, hurled it to the roof of the
+schoolhouse, broke through a group of boys, tumbling them in every
+direction, and fell sprawling, himself, under Becky's nose, almost
+upsetting her--and she turned, with her nose in the air, and he heard
+her say: "Mf! some people think they're mighty smart--always showing
+off!"
+
+Tom's cheeks burned. He gathered himself up and sneaked off, crushed
+and crestfallen.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, Part 3.
+by Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens)
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOM SAWYER, PART 3. ***
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