Chapter 25
Seeking the Buried Treasure
-
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.
"O, 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'rogliphics."
"Hyro- which?"
"Hy'rogliphics- 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 a 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."
"O, kings have slathers of them."
"Well, I don't 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?- you 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
hump-backed 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?"
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."
"O, 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
neck-tie 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, Tom. 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 a while. 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 meow 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 heard that."
"Tom I don't like to fool around much where there's dead people. A
body's bound to get into trouble with 'em, sure."
"I don't like to stir 'em up, either, Huck. S'pose this one here was
to stick his skull out and say something!"
"Don't, Tom! It's awful."
"Well it just is. Huck, I don't feel comfortable a bit."
"Say, Tom, let's give this place up, and try somewheres else."
"All right, I reckon we better."
"What'll it be?"
Tom considered a while; and then said-
"The ha'nted house. That's it!"
"Blame it, I don't like ha'nted houses, Tom. Why they're a dem sight
worse'n dead people. Dead people might talk, maybe, but they don't
come sliding around in a shroud, when you ain't noticing, and peep
over your shoulder all of a sudden and grit their teeth, the way a
ghost does. I couldn't stand such a thing as that, Tom- nobody could."
"Yes, but Huck, ghosts don't travel around only at night. They won't
hender us from digging there in the daytime."
"Well that's so. But you know mighty well people don't go about that
ha'nted house in the day nor the night."
"Well, that's mostly because they don't like to go where a man's
been murdered, anyway- but nothing's ever been seen around that
house except in the night- just some blue lights slipping by the
windows- no regular ghosts."
"Well where you see one of them blue lights flickering around,
Tom, you can bet there's a ghost mighty close behind it. It stands
to reason. Becuz you know that they don't anybody but ghosts use 'em."
"Yes, that's so. But anyway they don't come around in the daytime,
so what's the use of our being afeared?"
"Well, all right. We'll tackle the ha'nted house if you say so-
but I reckon it's taking chances."
They had started down the hill by this time. There in the middle
of the moonlit valley below them stood the "ha'nted" house, utterly
isolated, its fences gone long ago, rank weeds smothering the very
doorsteps, the chimney crumbled to ruin, the window-sashes vacant, a
corner of the roof caved in. The boys gazed a while, half expecting to
see a blue light flit past a window; then talking in a low tone, as
befitted the time and the circumstances, they struck far off to the
right, to give the haunted house a wide berth, and took their way
homeward through the woods that adorned the rearward side of Cardiff
Hill.
CHAPTER_26
Chapter 26
Real Robbers Seize the Box of Gold
-
ABOUT NOON THE NEXT DAY the boys arrived at the dead tree; they
had come for their tools. Tom was impatient to go to the haunted
house; Huck was measurably so, also- but suddenly said-
"Looky-here, Tom, do you know what day it is?"
Tom mentally ran over the days of the week, and then quickly
lifted his eyes with a startled look in them-
"My! I never once thought of it, Huck!"
"Well I didn't neither, but all at once it popped onto me that it
was Friday."
"Blame it, a body can't be too careful, Huck. We might a got into an
awful scrape, tackling such a thing on a Friday."
"Might! Better say we would! There's some lucky days, maybe, but
Friday ain't."
"Any fool knows that. I don't reckon you was the first that found it
out, Huck."
"Well, I never said I was, did I? And Friday ain't all, neither. I
had a rotten bad dream last night- dreampt about rats."
"No! Sure sign of trouble. Did they fight?"
"No."
"Well that's good, Huck. When they don't fight it's only a sign that
there's trouble around, you know. All we got to do is to look mighty
sharp and keep out of it. We'll drop this thing for to-day, and
play. Do you know Robin Hood, Huck?"
"No. Who's Robin Hood?"
"Why he was one of the greatest men that was ever in England- and
the best. He was a robber."
"Cracky, I wisht I was. Who did he rob?"
"Only sheriffs and bishops and rich people and kings, and such like.
But he never bothered the poor. He loved 'em. He always divided up
with 'em perfectly square."
"Well, he must 'a' ben a brick."
"I bet you he was, Huck. Oh, he was the noblest man that ever was.
They ain't any such men now, I can tell you. He could lick any man
in England, with one hand tied behind him; and he could take his yew
bow and plug a ten-cent piece every time, a mile and a half."
"What's a yew bow?"
"I don't know. It's some kind of a bow, of course. And if he hit
that dime only on the edge he would set down and cry- and curse. But
we'll play Robin Hood- it's noble fun. I'll learn you."
"I'm agreed."
So they played Robin Hood all the afternoon, now and then casting
a yearning eye down upon the haunted house and passing a remark
about the morrow's prospects and possibilities there. As the sun began
to sink into the west they took their way homeward athwart the long
shadows of the trees and soon were buried from sight in the forests of
Cardiff Hill.
On Saturday, shortly after noon, the boys were at the dead tree
again. They had a smoke and a chat in the shade, and then dug a little
in their last hole, not with great hope, but merely because Tom said
there were so many cases where people had given up a treasure after
getting down within six inches of it, and then somebody else had
come along and turned it up with a single thrust of a shovel. The
thing failed this time, however, so the boys shouldered their tools
and went away feeling that they had not trifled with fortune but had
fulfilled all the requirements that belong to the business of
treasure-hunting.
When they reached the haunted house there was something so weird and
grisly about the dead silence that reigned there under the baking sun,
and something so depressing about the loneliness and desolation of the
place, that they were afraid, for a moment, to venture in. Then they
crept to the door and took a trembling peep. They saw a weed grown,
floorless room, unplastered, an ancient fireplace, vacant windows, a
ruinous staircase; and here, there, and everywhere, hung ragged and
abandoned cobwebs. They presently entered, softly, with quickened
pulses; talking in whispers, ears alert to catch the slightest
sound, and muscles tense and ready for instant retreat.
In a little while familiarity modified their fears and they gave the
place a critical and interested examination, rather admiring their own
boldness, and wondering at it, too. Next they wanted to look upstairs.
This was something like cutting off retreat, but they got to daring
each other, and of course there could be but one result- they threw
their tools into a corner and made the ascent. Up there were the
same signs of decay. In one corner they found a closet that promised
mystery, but the promise was a fraud- there was nothing in it. Their
courage was up now and well in hand. They were about to go down and
begin work when-
"Sh!" said Tom.
"What is it?" whispered Huck, blanching with fright.
"Sh!....... There!...... Hear it?"
"Yes!..... O, my! Let's run!"
"Keep still! Don't you budge! They're coming right toward the door."
The boys stretched themselves upon the floor with their eyes to knot
holes in the planking, and lay waiting, in a misery of fear.
"They've stopped...... No- coming...... Here they are. Don't whisper
another word, Huck. My goodness, I wish I was out of this!"
Two men entered. Each boy said to himself. "There's the old deaf and
dumb Spaniard that's been about town once or twice lately- never saw
t'other man before."
"T'other" was a ragged, unkempt creature, with nothing very pleasant
in his face. The Spaniard was wrapped in a serape; he had bushy
white whiskers; long white hair flowed from under his sombrero, and he
wore green goggles. When they came in, "t'other" was talking in a
low voice; they sat down on the ground, facing the door, with their
backs to the wall, and the speaker continued his remarks. His manner
became less guarded and his words more distinct as he proceeded:
"No," said he, "I've thought it all over, and I don't like it.
It's dangerous."
"Dangerous!" grunted the "deaf and dumb" Spaniard,- to the vast
surprise of the boys. "Milksop!"
This voice made the boys gasp and quake. It was Injun Joe's! There
was silence for some time. Then Joe said:
"What's any more dangerous than that job up yonder- but nothing's
come of it."
"That's different. Away up the river so, and not another house
about. 'Twon't ever be known that we tried, anyway, long as we
didn't succeed."
"Well, what's more dangerous than coming here in the day time?-
anybody would suspicion us that saw us."
"I know that. But there warn't any other place as handy after that
fool of a job. I want to quit this shanty. I wanted to yesterday, only
it warn't any use trying to stir out of here, with those infernal boys
playing over there on the hill right in full view."
"Those infernal boys," quaked again under the inspiration of this
remark, and thought how lucky it was that they had remembered it was
Friday and concluded to wait a day. They wished in their hearts they
had waited a year.
The two men got out some food and made a luncheon. After a long
and thoughtful silence, Injun Joe said:
"Look here, lad- you go back up the river where you belong. Wait
there till you hear from me. I'll take the chances on dropping into
this town just once more, for a look. We'll do that 'dangerous' job
after I've spied around a little and think things look well for it.
Then for Texas! We'll leg it together!"
This was satisfactory. Both men presently fell to yawning, and Injun
Joe said:
"I'm dead for sleep! It's your turn to watch."
He curled down in the weeds and soon began to snore. His comrade
stirred him once or twice and he became quiet. Presently the watcher
began to nod; his head drooped lower and lower, both men began to
snore now.
The boys drew a long, grateful breath. Tom whispered-
"Now's our chance- come!"
Huck said:
"I cant- I'd die if they was to wake."
Tom urged- Huck held back. At last Tom rose slowly and softly, and
started alone. But the first step he made wrung such a hideous creak
from the crazy floor that he sank down almost dead with fright. He
never made a second attempt. The boys lay there counting the
dragging moments till it seemed to them that time must be done and
eternity growing gray; and then they were grateful to note that at
last the sun was setting.
Now one snore ceased. Injun Joe sat up, stared around- smiled grimly
upon his comrade, whose head was drooping upon his knees- stirred
him up with his foot and said-
"Here! You're a watchman, ain't you! All right, though-nothing's
happened."
"My! have I been asleep?"
"O, partly, partly. Nearly time for us to be moving, pard. What'll
we do with what little swag we've got left?"
"I don't know- leave it here as we've always done, I reckon. No
use to take it away till we start south. Six hundred and fifty in
silver's something to carry."
"Well- all right- it won't matter to come here once more."
"No- but I'd say come in the night as we used to do- it's better."
"Yes; but look here; it may be a good while before I get the right
chance at that job; accidents might happen; 'tain't in such a very
good place; we'll just regularly bury it- and bury it deep."
"Good idea," said the comrade, who walked across the room, knelt
down, raised one of the rearward hearthstones and took out a bag
that jingled pleasantly. He subtracted from it twenty or thirty
dollars for himself and as much for Injun Joe and passed the bag to
the latter, who was on his knees in the corner, now, digging with
his bowie knife.
The boys forgot all their fears, all their miseries in an instant.
With gloating eyes they watched every movement. Luck!- the splendor of
it was beyond all imagination! Six hundred dollars was money enough to
make half a dozen boys rich! Here was treasure-hunting under the
happiest auspices- there would not be any bothersome uncertainty as to
where to dig. They nudged each other every moment- eloquent nudges and
easily understood, for they simply meant- "O, but ain't you glad now
we're here!"
Joe's knife struck upon something.
"Hello!" said he.
"What is it?" said his comrade.
"Half-rotten plank- no it's a box, I believe. Here- bear a hand
and we'll see what it's here for. Never mind, I've broke a hole."
He reached his hand in and drew it out-
"Man, it's money!"
The two men examined the handful of coins. They were gold. The
boys above were as excited as themselves, and as delighted.
Joe's comrade said-
"We'll make quick work of this. There's an old rusty pick over
amongst the weeds in the corner the other side of the fire-place- I
saw it a minute ago."
He ran and brought the boys' pick and shovel. Injun Joe took the
pick, looked it over critically, shook his head, muttered something to
himself, and then began to use it. The box was soon unearthed. It
was not very large; it was iron bound and had been very strong
before the slow years had injured it. The men contemplated the
treasure a while in blissful silence.
"Pard, there's thousands of dollars here," said Injun Joe.
"'Twas always said that Murrel's gang used around here one
summer," the stranger observed.
"I know it," said Injun Joe; "and this looks like it, I should say."
"Now you won't need to do that job."
The half-breed frowned. Said he-
"You don't know me. Least you don't know all about that thing.
'Tain't robbery altogether- it's revenge!" and a wicked light flamed
in his eyes. "I'll need your help in it. When it's finished- then
Texas. Go home to your Nance, and your kids, and stand by till you
hear from me."
"Well- if you say so, what'll we do with this- bury it again?"
"Yes." [Ravishing delight overhead.] "No! by the great Sachem,
no!" [Profound distress overhead.] "I'd nearly forgot. That pick had
fresh earth on it!" [The boys were sick with terror in a moment.]
"What business has a pick and a shovel here? What business with
fresh earth on them? Who brought them here- and where are they gone?
Have you heard anybody?- seen anybody? What! bury it again and leave
them to come and see the ground disturbed? Not exactly- not exactly.
We'll take it to my den."
"Why of course! Might have thought of that before. You mean Number
One?"
"No- Number Two- under the cross. The other place is bad- too
common."
"All right. It's nearly dark enough to start."
Injun Joe got up and went about from window to window cautiously
peeping out. Presently he said:
"Who could have brought those tools here? Do you reckon they can
be upstairs?"
The boys' breath forsook them. Injun Joe put his hand on his
knife, halted a moment, undecided, and then turned toward the
stairway. The boys thought of the closet, but their strength was gone.
The steps came creaking up the stairs- the intolerable distress of the
situation woke the stricken resolution of the lads- they were about to
spring for the closet, when there was a crash of rotten timbers and
Injun Joe landed on the ground amid the debris of the ruined stairway.
He gathered himself up cursing, and his comrade said:
"Now what's the use of all that? If it's anybody, and they're up
there, let them stay there- who cares? If they want to jump down, now,
and get into trouble, who objects? It will be dark in fifteen minutes-
and then let them follow us if they want to. I'm willing. In my
opinion, whoever hove those things in here caught a sight of us and
took us for ghosts or devils or something. I'll bet they're running
yet."
Joe grumbled a while; then he agreed with his friend that what
daylight was left ought to be economized in getting things ready for
leaving. Shortly afterward they slipped out of the house in the
deepening twilight, and moved toward the river with their precious
box.
Tom and Huck rose up, weak but vastly relieved, and stared after
them through the chinks between the logs of the house. Follow? Not
they. They were content to reach ground again without broken necks,
and take the townward track over the hill. They did not talk much.
They were too much absorbed in hating themselves- hating the ill
luck that made them take the spade and the pick there. But for that,
Injun Joe never would have suspected. He would have hidden the
silver with the gold to wait there till his "revenge" was satisfied,
and then he would have had the misfortune to find that money turn up
missing. Bitter, bitter luck that the tools were ever brought there!
They resolved to keep a lookout for that Spaniard when he should
come to town spying out for chances to do his revengeful job, and
follow him to "Number Two," wherever that might be. Then a ghastly
thought occurred to Tom:
"Revenge? What if he means us, Huck!"
"O, don't!" said Huck, nearly fainting.
They talked it all over, and as they entered town they agreed to
believe that he might possibly mean somebody else- at least that he
might at least mean nobody but Tom, since only Tom had testified.
Very, very small comfort it was to Tom to be alone in danger!
Company would be a palpable improvement, he thought.
CHAPTER_27
Chapter 27
Trembling on the Trail
-
THE ADVENTURE OF THE DAY mightily tormented Tom's dreams that night.
Four times he had his hands on that rich treasure and four times it
wasted to nothingness in his fingers as sleep forsook him and
wakefulness brought back the hard reality of his misfortune. As he lay
in the early morning recalling the incidents of his great adventure,
he noticed that they seemed curiously subdued and far away- somewhat
as if they had happened in another world, or in a time long gone by.
Then it occurred to him that the great adventure itself must be a
dream! There was one very strong argument in favor of this idea-
namely, that the quantity of coin he had seen was too vast to be real.
He had never seen as much as fifty dollars in one mass before, and
he was like all boys of his age and station in life, in that he
imagined that all references to "hundreds" and "thousands" were mere
fanciful forms of speech, and that no such sums really existed in
the world. He never had supposed for a moment that so large a sum as a
hundred dollars was to be found in actual money in anyone's
possession. If his notions of hidden treasure had been analyzed,
they would have been found to consist of a handful of real dimes and a
bushel of vague, splendid, ungraspable dollars.
But the incidents of his adventure grew sensibly sharper and clearer
under the attrition of thinking them over, and so he presently found
himself leaning to the impression that the thing might not have been a
dream, after all. This uncertainty must be swept away. He would snatch
a hurried breakfast and go and find Huck.
Huck was sitting on the gunwale of a flatboat, listlessly dangling
his feet in the water and looking very melancholy. Tom concluded to
let Huck lead up to the subject. If he did not do it, then the
adventure would be proved to have been only a dream.
"Hello, Huck!"
"Hello, yourself."
[Silence, for a minute.]
"Tom, if we'd a left the blame tools at the dead tree, we'd 'a'
got the money. O, ain't it awful!"
"'Tain't a dream, then, 'tain't a dream! Somehow I most wish it was.
Dog'd if I don't, Huck."
"What ain't a dream?"
"O, that thing yesterday. I been half thinking it was."
"Dream! If them stairs hadn't broke down you'd 'a' seen how much
dream it was! I've had dreams enough all night- with that patch-eyed
Spanish devil going for me all through 'em- rot him!"
"No, not rot him. Find him! Track the money!"
"Tom, we'll never find him. A feller don't have only one chance
for such a pile- and that one's lost. I'd feel mighty shaky if I was
to see him, anyway."
"Well, so'd I; but I'd like to see him, anyway- and track him out-
to his Number Two."
"Number Two- yes, that's it. I ben thinking 'bout that. But I
can't make nothing out of it. What do you reckon it is?"
"I dono. It's too deep. Say, Huck- maybe it's the number of a
house!"
"Goody!...... No, Tom, that ain't it. If it is, it ain't in this
onehorse town. They ain't no numbers here."
"Well, that's so. Lemme think a minute. Here- it's the number of a
room- in a tavern, you know!"
"O, that's the trick! They ain't only two taverns. We can find out
quick."
"You stay here, Huck, till I come."
Tom was off at once. He did not care to have Huck's company in
public places. He was gone half an hour. He found that in the best
tavern, No. 2 had long been occupied by a young lawyer, and was
still so occupied. In the less ostentatious house No. 2 was a mystery.
The tavern-keeper's young son said it was kept locked all the time,
and he never saw anybody go into it or come out of it except at night;
he did not know any particular reason for this state of things; had
had some little curiosity, but it was rather feeble; had made the most
of the mystery by entertaining himself with the idea that that room
was "ha'nted"; had noticed that there was a light in there the night
before.
"That's what I've found out, Huck. I reckon that's the very No. 2
we're after."
"I reckon it is, Tom. Now what you going to do?"
"Lemme think."
Tom thought a long time. Then he said:
"I'll tell you. The back door of that No. 2 is the door that comes
out into that little close alley between the tavern and the old
rattle-trap of a brick store. Now you get hold of all the door-keys
you can find, and I'll nip all of Auntie's and the first dark night
we'll go there and try 'em. And mind you keep a lookout for Injun Joe,
because he said he was going to drop into town and spy around once
more for a chance to get his revenge. If you see him, you just
follow him; and if he don't go to that No. 2, that ain't the place."
"Lordy I don't want to foller him by myself!"
"Why it'll be night, sure. He mightn't ever see you- and if he
did, maybe he'd never think anything."
"Well, if it's pretty dark I reckon I'll track him. I dono- I
dono. I'll try."
"You bet I'll follow him, if it's dark, Huck. Why he might 'a' found
out he couldn't get his revenge, and be going right after that money."
"It's so, Tom, it's so. I'll foller him; I will, by jingoes!"
"Now you're talking! Don't you ever weaken, Huck, and I won't."
CHAPTER_28
Chapter 28
In the Lair of Injun Joe
-
THAT NIGHT Tom and Huck were ready for their adventure. They hung
about the neighborhood of the tavern until after nine, one watching
the alley at a distance and the other the tavern door. Nobody
entered the alley or left it; nobody resembling the Spaniard entered
or left the tavern door. The night promised to be a fair one; so Tom
went home with the understanding that if a considerable degree of
darkness came on, Huck was to come and "meow," whereupon he would slip
out and try the keys. But the night remained clear, and Huck closed
his watch and retired to bed in an empty sugar-hogshead about twelve.
Tuesday the boys had the same ill luck. Also Wednesday. But Thursday
night promised better. Tom slipped out in good season with his
aunt's old tin lantern, and a large towel to blindfold it with. He hid
the lantern in Huck's sugar-hogshead and the watch began. An hour
before midnight the tavern closed up and its lights (the only ones
thereabouts) were put out. No Spaniard had been seen. Nobody had
entered or left the alley. Everything was auspicious. The blackness of
darkness reigned, the perfect stillness was interrupted only by
occasional mutterings of distant thunder.
Tom got his lantern, lit it in the hogshead, wrapped it closely in
the towel, and the two adventurers crept in the gloom toward the
tavern. Huck stood sentry and Tom felt his way into the alley. Then
there was a season of waiting anxiety that weighed upon Huck's spirits
like a mountain. He began to wish he could see a flash from the
lantern- it would frighten him, but it would at least tell him that
Tom was alive yet. It seemed hours since Tom had disappeared. Surely
he must have fainted; maybe he was dead; maybe his heart had burst
under terror and excitement. In his uneasiness Huck found himself
drawing closer and closer to the alley; fearing all sorts of
dreadful things, and momentarily expecting some catastrophe to
happen that would take away his breath. There was not much to take
away, for he seemed only able to inhale it by thimblefuls, and his
heart would soon wear itself out, the way it was beating. Suddenly
there was a flash of light and Tom came tearing by him:
"Run!" said he; "run, for your life!"
He needn't have repeated it; once was enough; Huck was making thirty
or forty miles an hour before the repetition was uttered. The boys
never stopped till they reached the shed of a deserted slaughter-house
at the lower end of the village. Just as they got within its shelter
the storm burst and the rain poured down. As soon as Tom got his
breath he said:
"Huck, it was awful! I tried two of the keys, just as soft as I
could; but they seemed to make such a power of racket that I
couldn't hardly get my breath I was so scared. They wouldn't turn in
the lock, either. Well, without noticing what I was doing, I took hold
of the knob, and open comes the door! It warn't locked! I hopped in,
and shook off the towel, and, great Caesar's ghost!"
"What!- what'd you see, Tom!"
"Huck, I most stepped onto Injun Joe's hand!"
"No!"
"Yes! He was laying there, sound asleep on the floor, with his old
patch on his eye and his arms spread out."
"Lordy, what did you do? Did he wake up?"
"No, never budged. Drunk, I reckon. I just grabbed that towel and
started!"
"I'd never 'a' thought of the towel, I bet!"
"Well, I would. My aunt would make me mighty sick if I lost it."
"Say, Tom, did you see that box?"
"Huck, I didn't wait to look around. I didn't see the box, I
didn't see the cross. I didn't see anything but a bottle and a tin cup
on the floor by Injun joe; yes, and I saw two barrels and lots more
bottles in the room. Don't you see, now, what's the matter with that
ha'nted room?"
"How?"
"Why it's with whisky! Maybe all the Temperance Taverns have got a
ha'nted room, hey Huck?"
"Well I reckon maybe that's so. Who'd 'a' thought such a thing?
But say, Tom, now's a mighty good time to get that box, if Injun joe's
drunk."
"It is, that! You try it!"
Huck shuddered.
"Well, no- I reckon not."
"And I reckon not, Huck. Only one bottle alongside of Injun Joe
ain't enough. If there'd been three, he'd be drunk enough and I'd do
it."
There was a long pause for reflection, and then Tom said:
"Looky-here, Huck, less not try that thing any more till we know
Injun Joe's not in there. It's too scary. Now if we watch every night,
we'll be dead sure to see him go out, some time or other, and then
we'll snatch that box quicker'n lightning."
"Well, I'm agreed, I'll watch the whole night long, and I'll do it
every night, too, if you'll do the other part of the job."
"All right, I will. All you got to do is to trot up Hooper street
a block and meow- and if I'm asleep, you throw some gravel at the
window and that'll fetch me."
"Agreed, and good as wheat!"
"Now Huck, the storm's over, and I'll go home. It'll begin to be
daylight in a couple of hours. You go back and watch that long, will
you?"
"I said I would, Tom, and I will. I'll ha'nt that tavern every night
for a year! I'll sleep all day and I'll stand watch all night."
"That's all right. Now where you going to sleep?"
"In Ben Rogers's hayloft. He let's me, and so does his pap's
nigger man, Uncle Jake. I tote water for Uncle Jake whenever he
wants me to, and anytime I ask him he gives me a little something to
eat if he can spare it. That's a mighty good nigger, Tom. He likes me,
becuz I don't ever act as if I was above him. Sometimes I've set right
down and eat with him. But you needn't tell that. A body's got to do
things when he's awful hungry he wouldn't want to do as a steady
thing."
"Well, if I don't want you in the daytime, Huck, I'll let you sleep.
I won't come bothering around. Any time you see something's up, in the
night, just skip right around and meow."
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