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

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The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain, Chapter thirty three, The Fate
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of Injun Joe. Within a few minutes, the news had spread, and
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a dozen skiff loads of men were on their way to McDougall's cave, and
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the ferry boat well filled with passengers soon followed. Tom Sawyer was in a
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skiff that bore Judge Thatcher. When the cave door was unlocked, a sorrowful
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sight presented itself in the dim twilight of the place. Injin Joe lay stretched
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upon the ground, dead, with his face close to the crack of the
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door, as if his longing eyes had been fixed to the latest moment upon
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the light and the cheer of the free world outside. Tom was touched,
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for he knew by his own experience how this wretch had suffered. His pity
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was moved, but nevertheless he felt an a bounding sense of relief and security
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now which revealed to him, in a degree which he had not fully appreciated
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before, how vast a weight of dread had been locked upon him since the
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day he lifted his voice against this bloody, minded outcast. Injun Joe's bowie
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knife lay close by, its blade broken in two, the great foundation beam
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of the door had been chipped and hacked through with tedious labor. Useless labor
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too, it was, for the native rock formed a sill outside it,
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and upon that stubborn material the knife had wrought no effect. The only damage
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done was to the knife itself. But if there had been no stony obstruction
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there, the labor would have been useless still, For if the beam had
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been wholly cut away injun Joe could not have squeezed his body under the door,
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and he knew it. So he had only hacked that place in order
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to be doing something, in order to pass the weary time, in order
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to employ his tortured faculties. Ordinarily, one could find half a dozen bits
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of candles stuck around in the crevices of this vestibule, left there by tourists,
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but there were none now. The prisoner had served them out and eaten
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them. He had also contrived to catch a few bats, and these also
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he had eaten, leaving only their claws. The poor unfortunate had starved to
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death. In one place near at hand, a stalac might had been slowly
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growing up from the ground for ages builded by the water drip from a stalactite
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overhead. The captive had broken off the stalac mighte, and upon the stump
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had placed a stone, wherein he had scooped a shallow hollow to catch the
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precious drop that fell once in every three minutes, with the dreary regularity of
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a cloctik a dessert spoonful, once in four and twenty hours. That drop
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was falling when the pyramids were new, when Troy fell, when the foundations
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of Rome were laid, when Christ was crucified, when the conqueror created the
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British Empire, when Columbus sailed, when the massacre at Lexington was news.
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It is falling now, it will still be falling when all these things shall
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have sunk down, the afternoon of history and the twilight of tradition had been
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swallowed up in the thick night of oblivion. Has everything a purpose and a
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mission? Did this drop fall patiently during five thousand years to be ready for
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this flitting human insect's need? And has it another important object to accomplish ten
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thousand years to come? No matter? It is many and many a year
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since the hapless half breed scooped out the stone to catch the priceless drops.
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But to this day the tourist stairs longest at that pathetic stone and that slow
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dropping water when he comes to see the wonders of McDougall's cave. Injun Joe's
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cup stands first in the list of the cavern's marvels. Even Aladdin's Palace cannot
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rival it. Injun Joe was buried near the mouth of the cave, and
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people flocked there in boats and wagons from the towns and from all the farms
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and hamlets for seven miles around. They brought their children and all sorts of
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provisions, and confess that they had had almost as satisfactory a time at the
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funeral as they could have had at the hanging. This funeral stopped the further
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growth of one thing, the petition to the governor for injun Joe's pardon.
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The petition had been largely signed, many tearful and eloquent meetings had been held,
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and a committee of sappy women been appointed to go in deep mourning and
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wail around the governor and implore him to be a merciful ass and trample his
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duty underfoot. Injun Joe was believed to have killed five citizens of the village
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but what of that? If he had been Satan himself, there would have
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been plenty of weaklings ready to scribble their names to a pardon petition and drip
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a tear on it from their permanently impaired and leaky water works. The morning
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after the funeral, Tom took Huck to a private place to have an important
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talk. Huck had learned all about Tom's adventure from the Welshman and the widow
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Douglas by this time, but Tom said he reckoned there was one thing they
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had not told him. That thing was what he wanted to talk about now.
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Huck's face saddened, he said, I know what it is. You
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got into number two and never found anything but whiskey. Nobody told me it
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was you, but I just knowed it must have been you soon as I
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heard bout that whiskey business, and I knowed you hadn't got the money,
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because you'd have got it me someway or other. And told me, even
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if you was mum to everybody else, Tom, something's always told me we'd
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never get hold of that swag. Why, Huck, I never told on
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that tavern keeper. You know his tavern was all right. The Saturday I
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went to the picnic. Don't you remember you was to watch there that night?
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Oh? Yes, why it seems about a year ago. It was
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that very night that I followed Injun Joe to the Winders. You followed him,
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yes, but you keep mum. I reckon, Injun Joe's left friends
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behind him, and I don't want them soaring on me and doin' me mean
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tricks. If it hadn't been for me, he'd be down in Texas now,
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all right? Then Huck told his entire adventure and confidence to Tom,
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who had only heard of the Welshman's part of it before. Well, said
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Huck, presently, coming back to the main question. Whoever nipped the whiskey?
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And number two nip the money too? I reckon anyway, it's a
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gone er for us, Tom Hack. That money wasn't ever in Number two?
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What? Huck searched his comrade's face. Keenly, Tom, have you
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got on the track of that money again? Hak, it's in the cave.
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Huck's eyes blazed. Say it again, Tom, the money's in the
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cave, Tom, honest engine? Now is it fun or earnest? Earnest
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Hack? Just as earnest as ever I was in my life. Will you
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go in there with me and help me get it out? I bet I
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will. I will. If it's where, we can blaze our way to
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it and not get lost. Hack. We can do that without the least
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little bit of trouble in the world. Good as wheat. What makes you
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think the money's huck? You just wait till we get in there. If
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we don't find it, I'll agree to give you my drum and everything I've
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got in the world. I will by jings. All right, it's a
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whiz. When do you say right now? If you say it, are
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you strong enough? Is it far in the cave? I on my pins
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a little three four days now? But I can't walk more than a mile,
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Tom, least, I don't think I could. It's about five mile
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into there the way. Anybody but me would go huck, But there's a
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mighty short cut that they don't anybody but me know about. Huck. I'll
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take you right to it in a skiff. I'll float the skiff down there,
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and i'll pull it back again, all by myself. You needn't ever
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turn your hand over. Let's start right off, Tom, all right,
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we want some bread and meat in our pipes, and little bag or two
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and two or three kite strings, and some of these newfangled things they call
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lucifer matches. I tell you many's the time I wished I had some.
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When I was in there before a trifle afternoon, the boys borrowed a small
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skiff from a citizen who was absent, and got under way at once.
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When they were several miles below Cave Hollow, Tom said, now you see
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this bluff here, looks all alike all the way down from the Cave Hollow.
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No houses, no woodyards, bushes all alike. But do you see
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that white place up there where there's been a landslide. Well, that's one
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of my marks. We'll get shore now they landed. Now, Huck,
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where we're a stand, and you could touch that hole I got out of
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with a fishing pole. See if you can find it. Huck searched all
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the place about and found nothing. Tom proudly marched into a thick clump of
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sumac bushes and said, here you are. Look at it, Huck.
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It's the snuggist hole in this country. You just keep mum about it.
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All along. I've been wanted to be a robber, but I knew I'd
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got to have a thing like this, and where to run across it was
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the bother. We've got it now, and we'll keep it quiet. Only
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we'll let Joe Harper and Ben Rogers in because of course there's got to be
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a gang, or else there wouldn't be any style about it. Tom Sawyer's
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gang. It sounds splendid, dull'n huck. Well, it just does,
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Tom. And who we rob? Oh, most anybody wade lay people.
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That's mostly the way. And kill them, no, not always hive them
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in the cave till they raise a ransom. What's a ransom money? You
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make them raise all they can, often their friends, and after you kept
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them a year, if it ain't raised, then you kill them. That's
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the general way. Only you don't kill the women. You shut up the
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women, but you don't kill them. They're always beautiful and rich and all
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fully scared. You take their watches and things, but you always take your
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hat off and talk polite. They ain't anybody as plight as robbers. You'll
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see that in any book. Well, the women get to loving you,
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and after they've been in the cave a week or two weeks, they stop
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crying, and after that you couldn't get them to leave. If you drove
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them out, they'd turn right around come back. It's so in all the
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books. Why it's really bully, Tom, I believe it's better and to
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be a pirate. Yes, it's better in some ways because it's close to
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home and circuses and all that. By this time everything is ready, and
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the boys entered the hole. Tom and the lead. They toiled their way
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to the farther end of the tunnel, then made their spliced kite strings fast
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and moved on. A few steps brought them to the ring, and Tom
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felt a shudder quiver all through him. He showed Huck the fragment of Candlewick
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perched on a lump of clay against the wall, and described how he and
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Becky had watched the flames struggle and expire. The boys began to quiet down
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to whispers now, for the stillness and gloom of the place oppressed their spirits.
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They went on and presently entered and followed Tom's other corridors until they reached
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the jumping off place. The candles revealed the fact that it was not really
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a precipice, but only a steep clay hill twenty or thirty feet high.
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Tom whispered, Now I'll show you something, Huck. He held his candle
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aloft and said, look as far round the corner as you can. Do
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you see that there on the big rock over yonder down with the candle smoke.
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Tom, it's a cross. Now, where's your number two? Under
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the cross? Hey, right yonders where I saw Indian Joe poke up his
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candle, Huck. Huck stared at the mystic sign a while, and then
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said, with a shaky voice, Tom, let's get out o here what
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and leave the treasure? Yes, leave it? Injun Joe's ghost is round
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about there. Certain No it ain't, Huck, No it ain't. It
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would haunt the place where he died, way out at the mouth of the
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cave, five miles from here. No, Tom, it wouldn't. It
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would hang around the money. I know the ways of ghosts, and so
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do you. Tom began to fear that Huck was right. Misgivings gathered in
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his mind, but presently an idea occurred to him. Look here, Tuck,
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what fools were making of ourselves? Injun Joe's ghost ain't a goin to
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come round where there's a cross. The point was well taken. It had
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its effect. Tom, I didn't think of that, but that's so it's
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luck for us. That cross is I reckon. We'll climb down there and
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have a hunt for that box. Tom went first, cutting rude steps in
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the clay hill. As he descended, Huck followed. Four avenues opened out
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of the small cavern which the great rock stood in. The boys examined three
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of them, with no result. They found a small recess in the one
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nearest the base of the rock, with a palllet of blankets spread down in
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it, also an old suspender, some bacon rind, and the well gnawed
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bones of two or three fowls, but there was no money box. The
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lad searched and researched this place, but in vain Tom said, he said,
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under the cross. Well, this comes nearest being under the cross.
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It can't be under the rock itself, because that's set solid on the ground.
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They searched everywhere once more, and then sat down, discouraged. Huck
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could suggest nothing. By and by Tom said, look, ye here,
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Huck, there's footprints and some candle grease on the clay about one side of
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this rock, but not on the other sides. Now what's that for?
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I bet you the money is under the rock. I'm going to dig in
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the clay. That ain't no bad notion, Tom said Huck with animation.
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Tom's real barlow was out at once, and he had not dug four inches
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before he struck wood. Hey, Huck, you hear that? Huck began
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to dig and scratch. Now some boards were soon uncovered and removed. They
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had concealed a natural chasm which led under the rock. Tom got into this
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and held his candle as far under the rock as he could, but said
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he could not see to the end of the rift he proposed to explore.
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He stooped and passed under. The narrow way descended gradually. He followed its
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winding course, first to the right and then to the left, Huck at
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his heels. Tom turned a short curve by and by and exclaimed, my
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goodness, Huck, lookye here it was the treasure box, sure enough,
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occupying a snug little cavern, along with an empty powder keg, a couple
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of guns and leather cases, two or three pairs of old moccasins, a
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leather belt, and some other rubbish, well soaked with the water. Drip.
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Got it at last, said Huck, plowing among the tarnished coins with
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his hands. My but we're rich, Tom, Huck, I always reckon
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we'd get it. It's just too good to believe. But we have got
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it. Sure, say, let's not fool around here. Let's snake it
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out. Let me see if we can lift the box. It weighed about
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fifty pounds. Tom could lift it after an awkward fashion, but could not
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carry it conveniently, I thought so, he said. They carried it like
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it was heavy. That day at the Haunted House. I noticed that I
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reckon, I was right to think of fetching the little bags along. The
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money was soon in the bags, and the boys took it up to the
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cross rock. Now let's fetch the guns and things, said Huck. No,
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Huck, leave them there. They're just the tricks to have when you
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go to robbing. We'll keep them there all the time, and we'll hold
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our orgies there too. It's an awful snug place for orgies. What's orgies,
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I don't know, but robbers always have orgies, and of course we've
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got to have them too. Come along, Huck, we've been here a
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long time. It's getting late, I reckon. I'm hungry too. We'll
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eat an smoke when we get to the skiff. They presently emerged into the
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clump of sumac bushes, looked warily about, found coast clear, and were
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soon lunching and smoking in the skiff. As the sun dipped toward the horizon,
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they pushed out and got under way. Tom skimmed up the shore through
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the long twilight, chatting cheerily with Huck, and landed shortly after dark.
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Now, Huck said Tom, we'll hide the money in the loft of the
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Widder's wood shed, and I'll come up in the morning and we'll count it
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and divide it, and then we'll hunt up a place out in the woods
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for it where it will be safe. Just you lay quiet here and watch
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the stuff till I run up and hook Benny Taylor's little wagon. I won't
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be gone a minute. He disappeared and presently returned with the wagon, put
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the two small sacks into it, threw some old rags on top of them,
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and started off, dragging his cargo behind him. When the boys reached
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the Welshman's house, they stopped to rest. Just as they were about to
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move on the Welshman stepped out and said, hello, who's that? Huck?
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And Tom Sawyer? Good? Come along with me, boys, you
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are keeping everybody waiting here. Hurry up, trot ahead, I'll haul the
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wagon for you. Why it's not as light as it might be? He
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got bricks in it or old metal? Old metal, said Tom. I
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judge, so the boys in this town will take more trouble and fool away
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more time hunting up six bits worth of old iron to sell to the foundry
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than they would to make twice the money at regular work. But that's human
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nature. Hurry long, hurry long. The boys wanted to know what the
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hurry was about. Never mind, you'll see when we get to the widow.
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Douglas's Huck said, with some apprehension, for he was long used to
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being falsely accused. Mister Jones, we haven't been doing nothing, The Welshman
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laughed. Well, I don't know, Huck, my boy, I don't
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know about that. Ain't you and the widow good friends? Yes? Well
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she's been good friends to me anyways. All right, then, what do
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you want to be frayed for? This question was not entirely answered in Huck's
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slow mind, before he found himself pushed along with Tom into Missus Douglas's drawing
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room. Mister Jones left the wagon near the door and followed. The place
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was grandly lighted, and everybody that was of any consequence in the village was
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there. The Thatchers were there, the Harpers, the Rogerses, Aunt Polly,
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sid Mary, the minister, the editor, and a great many more,
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and all dressed in their best. The widow received the boys as hardly
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as any one could well receive two such looking beings. They were covered with
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clay and candle grease. Aunt Polly blushed Crimson with humiliation, and frowned and
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shook her head at Tom. Nobody suffered half as much as the two boys
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did. However, mister Jones said, Tom wasn't at home yet, so
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I gave him up. But I stumbled on him and Huck right at my
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door, and so I just brought them along in a hurry. And you
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did just right, said the widow. Come with me, boys. She
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took them to a bed chamber and said, now wash and dress yourselves.
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Here are two new suits of clothes, shirts, socks, everything complete.
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There, Hucks, no, no thanks, Huck, Mister Jones bought one
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and I the other. But they'll fit both of you. Get into them.
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We'll wait, come down when you are slicked up enough. Then she
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left. End of chapter thirty three, Chapter thirty four, Floods of Gold.
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Hucks said, Tom, we can slope if we can find a rope.
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The window ain't high from the ground. Shucks, what do you want
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to slope for? Well, I ain't used to that kind of crowd.
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I can't stand it. I ain't going down there, Tom, Oh bother,
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ain't anything. I don't mind it a bit. I'll take care of
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you. S it appeared, Tom said he Auntie has been waiting for you
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all the afternoon. Mary got your Sunday clothes ready, and everybody's been fretting
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about you. Say, ain't this grease and clay on your clothes? Now?
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Mister City, you just tend to your own business. What's all this
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blowout about? Anyway? It's one of the widow's parties that she's always having.
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This time it's for the welsh Man and his sons on account of that
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scrape they helped her out of the other night. And say, I can
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tell you something if you want to know, Well, what why Old mister
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Jones is going to try to spring something on the people here tonight. But
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I overheard him tell Aunty today about it as a secret. But I reckon
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it's not much of a secret now everybody knows the winner too. For all
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she tries to let on she don't. Mister Jones was bound Huck should be
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here. Couldn't get along with his grand secret without Huck. You know,
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secret about what? Sid? About Huck tracking the robbers to the widows?
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I reckon mister Jones was going to make a grand time over his surprise,
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But I bet you it will drop pretty flat, Sid, chuckled in a
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very contented and satisfied way. Sid. Was it you that told, Oh,
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never mind who it was. Somebody told that's enough. Sid. There's
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only one person in this town mean enough to do that, and that's you.
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If you'd been in Huck's place, you'd to sneak down the hill and
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never told anybody on the robbers. You can't do any but mean things,
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and you can't bear to see anybody praise for doing good. Ones. There
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no thanks, as the widow says, and Tom cuffed Sid's ears and helped
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him to the door with several kicks. Now go and tell Annie if you
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dare, and tomorrow you'll catch it. Some minutes later, the widow's guests
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were at the supper table, and a dozen children were propped up at little
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side tables in the same room, after the fashion of that country and that
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day, at the proper time, mister Jones made his little speech, in
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which he thanked the widow for the honor she was doing himself and his sons,
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but said that there was another person whose modesty, and so forth and
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so on. He sprung his secret about Huck's share and the adventure in the
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finest dramatic manner he was master of. But the surprise at occasion was largely
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counterfeit, and not as clamorous and effusive as it might have been under happier
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circumstances. However, the widow made a pretty fair show of astonishment, and
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heaped so many compliments and so much gratitude upon Huck that he almost forgot the
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nearly intolerable discomfort of his new clothes, in the entirely intolerable discomfort of being
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set up as a target for everybody's gaye isn't everybody's laudations? The widow said
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she meant to give Huck a home under her roof and have him educated,
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and that when she could spare the money, she would start him in business
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in a modest way. Tom's chance was come. He said, Huck don't
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need it. Huck's rich. Nothing but a heavy strain upon the good manners
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of the company kept back the dew and proper complimentary laugh at this pleasant joke,
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but the silence was a little awkward. Tom broke it, Huck's got
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money. Maybe you don't believe it, but he's got lots of it.
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Oh, you needn't smile, I reckon, I can show you you just
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wait a minute. Tom ran out of doors. The company looked at each
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other with a perplexed interest, and inquiringly at Huck, who was tongue tied.
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See it what ails? Tom said, Aunt Polly. He, well,
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there ain't ever any making of that boy out I never. Tom entered,
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struggling with the weight of his sacks, and Aunt Polly did not finish
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her sentence. Tom poured the mass of yellow coins upon the table and said,
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there, what did I tell you? Half of its hucks and half
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of its mine. The spectacle took the general breath away, all gazed.
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Nobody spoke for a moment. Then there was a unanimous call for an explanation.
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Tom said he could furnish it, and he did. The tale was
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long, but brim full of interest. There was scarcely an interruption from any
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one to break the charm of its flow. When he had finished, mister
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Jones said, I thought I had fixed up a little surprise for this occasion,
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but it don't amount to anything now. This one makes it sing mighty
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small. I'm willing to allow. The money was counted. The sum amounted
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to a little over twelve thousand dollars. It was more than any one present
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had ever seen at one time before, though several persons were there who were
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worth considerably more than that. In property end of chapter thirty four, Chapter
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thirty five, Respectable Huck joins the gang. The reader may rest satisfied that
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Tom's and Huck's windfall made a mighty stir in the poor little village of Saint
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Petersburg. So vast a sum, all in actual cash, seemed next to
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incredible. It was talked about, gloated over glorified, until the reason of
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many of the citizens tottered under the strain of the unhealthy excitement. Every haunted
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house in Saint Petersburg and the neighboring villages was dissected plank by plank, and
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its foundations dug up and ransacked for hidden treasure. And not by boys,
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but men, pretty grave, unromantic men too, some of them. Wherever
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Tom and Huck appeared, they were courted, admired, stared at. The
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boys were not able to remember that their remarks had possessed weight before, but
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now their sayings were treasured and repeated. Everything they did seemed somehow to be
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regarded as remarkable. They had evidently lost the power of doing and saying commonplace
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things. Moreover, their past history was raked up and discovered to bear marks
23:59
of conspicut u us originality. The village paper published biographical sketches of the boys.
24:04
The widow Douglas put Huck's money out at six percent, and Judge Thatcher
24:08
did the same with Tom's at Aunt Polly's request. Each lad had an income
24:14
now that was simply prodigious, a dollar for every week day in the year,
24:18
and half of the sundays. It was just what the minister got,
24:22
No, it was what he was promised. He generally couldn't collect it a
24:26
dollar and a quarter a week would board lodge and school a boy in those
24:30
old simple days, and clothe him and wash him too. For that matter,
24:34
Judge Thatcher had conceived a great opinion of Tom. He said that no
24:38
commonplace boy would ever have got his daughter out of the cave. When Becky
24:42
told her father in strict confidence, how Tom had taken her whipping at school,
24:47
the Judge was visibly moved. And when she pleaded grace for the mighty
24:51
lie which Tom had told in order to shift that whipping from her shoulders to
24:55
his own, the Judge said, with a fine outburst that it was a
24:59
noble, a enterest, a magnanimous lie, a lie that was worthy to
25:03
hold up its head and march down through history breast to breast with George Washington's
25:08
lauded truth about the hatchet. Becky thought her father had never looked so tall
25:14
and so superb as when he walked the floor and stamped his foot, and
25:18
said that she went straight off and told Tom about it. Judge Thatcher hoped
25:22
to see Tom a great lawyer or a great soldier some day. He said
25:26
he meant to look to it that Tom should be admitted to the National Military
25:30
Academy and afterward trained in the best law school in the country, in order
25:33
that he might be ready for either career or both. Huck Finn's wealth and
25:38
the fact that he was now under the Widow Douglas's protection introduced him into society.
25:44
No dragged him into it, hurled him into it, and his sufferings
25:48
were almost more than he could bear. The widow's servants kept him clean and
25:52
neat, combed and brushed, and they bedded him nightly in unsympathetic sheets that
25:57
had not one little spot stain which he could press to his heart and know
26:02
for a friend. He had to eat with knife and fork, and had
26:06
to use napkin, cup and plate. He had to learn his book.
26:10
He had to go to church. He had to talk so properly that speech
26:14
was become insipid in his mouth. Whithersoever he turned. The bars and shackles
26:18
of civilization shut him in and bound him hand and foot. He bravely bore
26:22
his miseries three weeks, and then one day turned up missing for at forty
26:27
eight hours. The widow hunted for him everywhere in great distress. The public
26:32
were profoundly concerned, They searched high and low. They dragged the river for
26:36
his body. Early the third morning, Tom Sawyer wisely went poking among some
26:41
old empty hogsheads down behind the abandoned slaughter house, and in one of them
26:45
he found the refugee Huck had slept there. He had just breakfast upon some
26:49
stolen odds and ends of food, and was lying off now in comfort with
26:53
his pipe. He was unkempt, uncombed, and clad in the same old
26:57
ruin of rags that had made him picturesque in the days when he was free
27:02
and happy. Tom routed him out, told him the trouble he had been
27:04
causing, and urged him to go home. Huck's face lost its tranquil content
27:10
and took a melancholy cast, and he said, don't talk about it,
27:15
Tom. I've tried it and it don't work. It don't work, Tom,
27:18
It ain't for me. I ain't used to it. The winter's good
27:22
to me and friendly, but I can't stand them ways. She makes me
27:26
get up just at the same time every morning, she makes me wash,
27:30
They comb me all to thunder. She won't let me sleep in the woodshed.
27:34
I got to wear them blame clothes that just smothers me. Tom.
27:38
They don't seem to let any air get through him somehow, and they're so
27:42
rotten nice that I can't set down, nor lay down, nor roll around
27:47
anywheres. I ain't slid on a cellar door for well, it's appears to
27:51
be years. I got to go to church and sweat and sweat. I
27:55
hate them ornery sermons. I can't catch a fly in there. I can't
27:57
chaw. I got to wear sh choose all sunday. The winder eats by
28:02
a bell, she goes to bed by a bell, she gets up by
28:04
a bell. Everything's so awful regular a body can't stand it. Well,
28:10
everybody does that, huck, Tom. It don't make no difference. I
28:14
ain't everybody, and I can't stand it. It's awful to be tied up
28:18
so and grub comes too easy. I don't take no interest in vitals that
28:22
way. I got to ask to go a fishing. I got to ask
28:26
to go in a swimming durned. If I hain't got to ask to do
28:30
everything, well, I'd got to talk so nice. It wasn't no comfort.
28:33
I'd got to go up in the attic and rip out a while every
28:37
day to get a taste in my mouth or it died. Tom the winner
28:41
wouldn't let me smoke, She wouldn't let me yell. She wouldn't let me
28:45
gape, nor stretch, nor scratch before folks. Then with a spasm of
28:49
special irritation and injury and dead fetch it, she prayed all the time.
28:56
I never see such a woman. I had to shove Tom. I just
28:59
had to. And besides, that school is going to open, and i'd
29:03
have got to go to it. Well, I wouldn't stand that, Tom.
29:06
Look here, Tom, being rich hain't what it's cracked up to be.
29:08
It's just worry and worry and sweat and sweat and a wishing you was
29:12
dead all the time. Now, these clothes suits me, and this barrel
29:17
suits me, and I ain't ever going to shake him anymore. Tom,
29:22
I wouldn't ever got into all this trouble if it hadn't been for that money.
29:25
Now, you just take my share of it along with urine, and
29:27
give me a ten center sometimes not many times, because I don't give a
29:32
dern for a thing thout it's tolerable, hard to get, and you go
29:36
and beg off for me with a wider. Oh, Hock, you know
29:40
I can't do that. Tain't fair. And besides, if you'll try this
29:44
thing just a while longer, you'll come to like it. Like it,
29:48
yes, the way I'd like a hot stove if I was to set on
29:52
it long enough. No, Tom, I won't be rich, and I
29:55
won't live in them cussed smothery houses. I like the woods and the river
30:00
in Hogsheads, and I'll stick to him too. Blame it all, just
30:03
as we've got guns in a cave and all. Just fix the rob hear
30:07
this darned foolishness has got to come up and spile it all. Tom saw
30:11
his opportunity. Look at here, Huck, being rich ain't going to keep
30:15
me back from turning robber. No, oh good, looks are you in
30:21
real dead with Earnest? Tom? Just as dead Earnest as I'm a sitting
30:25
here. But Huck, we can't let you into the gang if you ain't
30:29
respectable. You know, Huck's joy was quenched. Can't let me in,
30:33
Tom. Didn't you let me go for a pirate? Yes, but that's
30:37
different. A robber is more high toned than what a pirate is. As
30:41
a general thing, in most countries. They're awful high up in the nobility,
30:45
dukes and such. Now, Tom, hain't you always been friendly to
30:51
me? You wouldn't have shut me out, would you? Tom? You
30:52
wouldn't do that, now, would you? Tom? Huck? I wouldn't
30:57
want to, and I don't want to. But what would people say?
31:02
Why? They'd say Tom Sawyer's gang pretty low characters in it. They'd mean,
31:07
you, Huck, you wouldn't like that, and I wouldn't. Huck
31:11
was silent for some time, engaged in a mental struggle, and finally he
31:14
said, well, I'll go back to the Widder for a month and tackle
31:18
it and see if I can come to stand it, if you'll let me
31:21
belong to the gang. Tom, all right, Huck, it's a whiz.
31:25
Come along, old Chap, and I'll ask the Widder to let up
31:27
on you a little, Huck, will you, Tom? Now? Will
31:30
you? That's good? If she'll let up on some of the roughest things.
31:34
I'll smoke private and cuss private, and crowd through or bust when you're
31:38
going to start the gang and turn robbers. Oh, right off. We'll
31:42
get the boys together and have the initiation tonight. Maybe have the witch have
31:48
the initiation. What's that? It's to swear to stand by one another and
31:52
never tell the gang's secrets, even if you're chopped all to flinders and kill
31:56
anybody and all his family that hurts one of the gang. That's gay.
32:01
That's mighty gay, Tom, I tell you, well, I bet it
32:05
is. And all that swearing's got to be done at midnight in the lonesomest,
32:09
awfulest place you can find. A hunted house is the best, and
32:13
they're all ripped up. Now, Well, midnight's good anyway, Tom,
32:17
Yes, so it is. And you've got to swear on a coffin and
32:21
sign it with blood. Now that's something like why, it's a million times
32:27
bullier than pirating. I'll stick to the widder till I rot, Tom.
32:30
And if I get to be regular ripper of a robber and everybody talking about
32:35
it, I reckon she'll be proud she snaked me in out of the wet
32:39
conclusion. So endeth this chronicle. It being strictly a history of a boy,
32:46
it must stop here. The story could not go much further without becoming
32:52
the history of a man. When one writes a novel about grown people,
32:57
he knows exactly where to stop, that is, with a marriage, But
33:01
when he writes of juveniles, he must stop where he best can. Most
33:07
of the characters that perform in this book still live and are prosperous and happy.
33:12
Some day it may seem worth while to take up the story of the
33:15
younger ones again and see what sort of men and women they turned out to
33:20
be. Therefore, it will be wisest not to reveal any of that part
33:24
of their lives at present. The end. This is the end of the
33:30
Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain.