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13 - The Adventures of Tom Sawyer - Mark Twain · Adventure Books Library

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  Chapter twenty seven. Trembling on the trail, the adventure of the day mightily
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  tormented Tom's dreams. That night, four times he had his hands on that
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  rich treasure, and four times it wasted to nothingness in his fingers as sleep
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  forsook him and wakefulness brought back the hard reality of his misfortune. As he
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  lay in the early morning recalling the incidents of his great adventure, he noticed
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  that they seemed curiously subdued and far away, somewhat as if they had happened
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  in another world or in a time long gone by. Then it occurred to
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  him that the great Adventure itself must be a dream. There was one very
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  strong argument in favor of this idea, namely that the quantity of coin he
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  had seen was too vast to be real. He had never seen as much
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  as fifty dollars in one mass before, and he was like all boys of
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  his age and station in life in that he imagined that all references to hundreds
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  and thousands were mere founds forms of speech, and that no such sums really
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  existed in the world. He never had supposed for a moment that so large
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  a sum as a hundred dollars was to be found in actual money in any
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  one's possession. If his notions of hidden treasure had been analyzed, they would
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  have been found to consist of a handful of real dimes and a bushel of
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  vague, splendid, ungraspable dollars. But the incidents of his adventure grew sensibly
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  sharper and clearer under the attrition of thinking them over, and so he presently
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  found himself leaning to the impression that the thing might not have been a dream.
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  After all, this uncertainty must be swept away. He would snatch a
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  hurried breakfast and go and find Huck. Huck was sitting on the gunwale of
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  a flat boat, listlessly, dangling his feet in the water and looking very
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  melancholy. Tom concluded to let Huck lead up to the subject. If he
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  did not do it, then the adventure would be proved to have been only
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  a dream. Hello Huck, Hello yourself. Silence for a minute, Tom.
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  If we'd a left the blame tools at the dead tree, we'd a
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  got the money. Oh, ain't it awful? Tain't a dream? Then?
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  Tain't a dream? Somehow? I most wish it was dogged. If
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  I don't Huck what ain't a dream? Oh that thing yesterday i'd been half
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  thinkin it was dream. If them stairs hadn't broke down, you'd have seen
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  how much dream it was. I've had dreams enough all night with that patch
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  eyed Spanish devil going for me all through em. Rot him, no,
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  not rot him, find him, track the money, Tom, we'll never
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  find him. A feller don't have only one chance for such a pile,
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  and that one's lost. I'd feel mighty shaky if I was to see him
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  anyway, Well, so'd i. But I'd like to see him anyway.
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  Track him out to his number two number two. Yes, that's it.
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  I've been thinking about that, but I can't make nothing out of it.
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  What do you reckon it is? I don't know. It's too deep,
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  say Huck. Maybe it's the number of a house. Goody, No,
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  Tom, that ain't it. If it is, it ain't in this one
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  horse town. They ain't no numbers here. Well that's so, let me
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  think a minute. Here, it's the number of a room in a tavern,
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  you know. Oh that's the trick. They ain't only two taverns.
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  We can find out quick. You stay here, Huck, till I come
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  Tom was off at once. He did not care to have Huck's company in
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  public places. He was gone half an hour. He found that in the
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  best tavern, number two had long been occupied by a young lawyer, and
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  was still so occupied. In the less ostentatious house, Number two was a
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  mystery. The tavern keeper's young son said it was kept locked all the time,
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  and he never saw anybody go into it or come out of it,
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  except at night. He did not know any particular reason for this state of
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  things. Had had some little curiosity, but it was rather feeble. Had
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  made the most of the mystery by entertaining himself with the idea that the room
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  was haunted. Had noticed that there was a light in there the night before.
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  That's what I've found out, Huck. I reckon, that's the very
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  number two we're after. I reckon it is, Tom. Now what you
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  going to do? Let me think. Tom thought a long time. Then
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  he said, I'll tell you. The back door of that number two is
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  the door that comes out into the little close alley between the tavern and the
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  old rattle trap of a brick store. Now you get hold of all the
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  door keys you can find, and I'll nip all the bounties, and the
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  first dark night, we'll go there and try him. And mind you keep
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  a look out for injun Joe, because he said he was going to drop
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  into town and spy around once more for a chance to get his revenge.
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  If you see him, you just follow him. And if he don't go
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  to that number two, that ain't the place, Lordy, I don't want
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  to follow him by myself. Why it'll be a night. Sure he might
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  never see you, and if he did, maybe he'd never think anything.
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  Well, if it's it's pretty dark, I reckon I'll track him. I
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  don't know, I don't know. I'll try. You bet, I'll follow
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  him if it's dark, Huck, why he might have found the out he
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  couldn't get his revenge and and be going right after that money. It's so,
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  Tom, it's so, I'll follow him. I will buy jingoes.
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  Now you're talking. Don't you ever weaken? Huck? And I won't.
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  End of chapter twenty seven, Chapter twenty eight. In the Lair of Injun
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  Joe. That night, Tom and Huck were ready for their adventure. They
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  hung about the neighborhood of the Tavern until after nine one, watching the alley
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  at a distance, and the other the tavern door. Nobody entered the alley
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  or left it. Nobody resembling the spaniard entered or left the tavern door.
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  The knight promised to be a fair one, so Tom went home with the
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  understanding that if a considerable degree of darkness came on, Huck was to come
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  and mow, whereupon he would slip out and try the keys. But the
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  night remained clear, and Huck closed his watch and retired to bed in an
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  empty sugar hogshead. About twelve Tuesday. The boys had the same ill luck
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  also Wednesday, but Thursday night promised better. Tom slipped out in good season
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  with his aunt's old tin lantern and a large towel to blindfold it with.
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  He hid the lantern and Huck's sugar hogshead, and the watch began. An
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  hour before midnight. The tavern closed up and its lights, the only ones
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  thereabouts, were put out. No spaniard had been seen, Nobody entered or
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  left the alley. Everything was auspicious. The blackness of darkness reigned. The
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  perfect stillness was interrupted only by occasional mutterings of distant thunder. Tom got his
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  lantern lit it in the hogshead, wrapped it closely in the towel, and
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  the two adventurers crept in the gloom toward the tavern. Huck stood sentry and
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  Tom felt his way into the alley. Then there was a season of waiting,
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  anxiety that weighed upon Huck's spirits like a mountain. He began to wish
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  he could see a flash from the lantern. It would frighten him, but
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  it would at least tell him that Tom was alive. Yet it seemed hours
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  since Tom had disappeared. Surely he must have fainted, Maybe he was dead,
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  maybe his heart had burst Under terror and excitement. In his uneasiness,
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  Huck found himself drawing closer and closer to the alley, fearing all sorts of
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  dreadful things, and momentarily expecting some catastrophe to happen that would take away his
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  breath. There was not much to take away, for he seemed only able
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  to inhale it by thimblefuls, and his heart would soon wear itself out the
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  way it was beating. Suddenly there was a flash of light, and Tom
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  came tearing by him. Run, said, he run for your life.
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  He needn't have repeated it once was enough. Huck was making thirty or forty
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  miles an hour before the repetition was uttered. The boys never stopped till they
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  reached the shed of a deserted slaughter house at the lower end of the village.
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  Just as they got within its shelter, the storm burst and the rain
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  poured down. As soon as Tom got his breath, he said, Huck,
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  it was awful. I tried two of the keys, just as soft
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  as I could, but they seemed to make such a power of a racket
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  that I couldn't hardly get my breath. I was so scared they wouldn't turn
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  in the lock either. Well, without noticing what I was doing, I
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  took hold of the knob and open comes the door. It warn't locked.
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  I hopped in and shook off the towel, and Great Caesar's ghost. What
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  what you see, Tom Hack? I most stepped onto Injine Joe's hand.
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  No, yes, he was laying there, sound asleep on the floor,
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  with his old patch on his eye and his arms spread out. Lord,
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  he would you do? Did he wake up? No? Never budged drunk,
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  I reckon. I just grabbed that towel and started I'd never thought of
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  the towel, I bet well I would. My aunt would make me mighty
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  sick if I lost it. Say Tom, did you see that box?
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  Hack? I didn't wait to look around. I didn't see the box.
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  I didn't see the cross. I didn't see anything but a bottle and a
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  tin cup on the floor by engine. Yes, and I saw two barrels
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  and lots more bottles in the room. Don't you see? Now? What's
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  the matter with that hanted room? How why it's hanted with whiskey? Maybe
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  all the temperance taverns have got a handed room. Hey, Huck, Well,
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  I reckon. Maybe that's so. Who'd have thought such a thing?
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  But say Tom, now's a mighty good time to get that box. If
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  Injune Joe's drunk, it is that you try it. Huck shuddered. Well,
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  no, I reckon not, and I reckon not, Huck. Only
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  one bottle alongside of engine Joe ain't enough. If there'd been three, he'd
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  be drunk enough, and I'd do it. There was a long pause for
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  reflection, and then Tom said, look here, Huck, let's not try
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  that thing anymore till we know Injune Joe's not in there. It's too scary.
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  Now, if we watch every night, we'll be dead sure to see
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  him go out sometime or other, and then we'll snatch that box quicker in
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  lightning. Well, I'm agreed. I'll watch the whole night long, and
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  I'll do it every night too, if you'll do the other part of the
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  job, all right, I will. All you got to do is to
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  trot up Hooper Street a block and mow, and if I'm asleep, you
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  throw some gravel at the window and that'll fetch me. Agreed, and good
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  as wheat. Now, Huck, the storm's over and I'll go home.
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  It'll begin to be daylight in a couple hours. You go back and watch
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  that long, will you? I said I would, Tom, and I
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  will. I'll haunt that tavern every night for a year. I'll sleep all
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  day and I'll stand watch all night. That's all right. Now, where
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  are you going to sleep in? Ben rogers Hayloft? He lets me,
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  and so does his PAP's nigger man, Uncle Jake. I tote water for
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  Uncle Jake whenever he wants me to, and anytime I ask him, he
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  gives me a little something to eat. If he can spare it. That's
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  a mighty good nigger. Tom. He likes me because I don't ever act
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  as if I was above him. Sometimes I've set right down and eat with
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  him. But you needn't tell that. A body's got to do things when
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  he's awful hungry, he wouldn't want to do as a steady thing. Well,
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  if I don't want you in the daytime, i'll let you sleep.
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  I won't come bothering round anytime you see something's up in the night. Just
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  skip right around and now. End of chapter twenty eight.