“Not where I hid it I reckon it won’t,” I says.
“How’d you get your breakfast so early on the boat?”
It was kinder thin ice, but I says:
“The captain see me standing around, and told me I better have something to eat before I went ashore; so he took me in the texas to the officers’ lunch, and give me all I wanted.”
I was getting so uneasy I couldn’t listen good. I had my mind on the children all the time; I wanted to get them out to one side and pump them a little, and find out who I was. But I couldn’t get no show, Mrs. Phelps kept it up and run on so. Pretty soon she made the cold chills streak all down my back, because she says:
“But here we’re a-running on this way, and you hain’t told me a word about Sis, nor any of them. Now I’ll rest my works a little, and you start up yourn; just tell me EVERYTHING — tell me all about ‘m all every one of ‘m; and how they are, and what they’re doing, and what they told you to tell me; and every last thing you can think of.”
Well, I see I was up a stump — and up it good. Providence had stood by me this fur all right, but I was hard and tight aground now. I see it warn’t a bit of use to try to go ahead — I’d got to throw up my hand. So I says to myself, here’s another place where I got to resk the truth. I opened my mouth to begin; but she grabbed me and hustled me in behind the bed, and says:
“Here he comes! Stick your head down lower — there, that’ll do; you can’t be seen now. Don’t you let on you’re here. I’ll play a joke on him. Children, don’t you say a word.”
I see I was in a fix now. But it warn’t no use to worry; there warn’t nothing to do but just hold still, and try and be ready to stand from under when the lightning struck.
I had just one little glimpse of the old gentleman when he come in; then the bed hid him. Mrs. Phelps she jumps for him, and says:
“Has he come?”
“No,” says her husband.
“Good-NESS gracious!” she says, “what in the warld can have become of him?”
“I can’t imagine,” says the old gentleman; “and I must say it makes me dreadful uneasy.”
“Uneasy!” she says; “I’m ready to go distracted! He MUST a come; and you’ve missed him along the road. I KNOW it’s so — something tells me so.”
“Why, Sally, I COULDN’T miss him along the road — YOU know that.”
“But oh, dear, dear, what WILL Sis say! He must a come! You must a missed him. He –”
“Oh, don’t distress me any more’n I’m already dis- tressed. I don’t know what in the world to make of it. I’m at my wit’s end, and I don’t mind acknowledging ‘t I’m right down scared. But there’s no hope that he’s come; for he COULDN’T come and me miss him. Sally, it’s terrible — just terrible — something’s hap- pened to the boat, sure!”
“Why, Silas! Look yonder! — up the road! — ain’t that somebody coming?”
He sprung to the window at the head of the bed, and that give Mrs. Phelps the chance she wanted. She stooped down quick at the foot of the bed and give me a pull, and out I come; and when he turned back from the window there she stood, a-beaming and a-smil- ing like a house afire, and I standing pretty meek and sweaty alongside. The old gentleman stared, and says:
“Why, who’s that?”
“Who do you reckon ‘t is?”
“I hain’t no idea. Who IS it?”
“It’s TOM SAWYER!”
By jings, I most slumped through the floor! But there warn’t no time to swap knives; the old man grabbed me by the hand and shook, and kept on shak- ing; and all the time how the woman did dance around and laugh and cry; and then how they both did fire off questions about Sid, and Mary, and the rest of the tribe.