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“How?”
“Why, it’s ha’nted with whiskey! 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 along-side 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:
“Lookyhere, 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 maow — 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
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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’ hayloft. He lets me, and so does his pap’s nigger man, Uncle Jake. I tote water for Uncle Jake whenever he wants me to, and any time 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. Sometime 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, 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 maow.”
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Chapter XXIX
THE first thing Tom heard on Friday morning was a glad piece of news — Judge Thatcher’s family had come back to town the night before. Both Injun Joe and the treasure sunk into secondary importance for a moment, and Becky took the chief place in the boy’s interest. He saw her and they had an exhausting good time playing “hispy” and “gully-keeper” with a crowd of their school-mates. The day was completed and crowned in a peculiarly satisfactory way: Becky teased her mother to appoint the next day for the long-promised and long-delayed picnic, and she consented. The child’s delight was boundless; and Tom’s not more moderate. The invitations were sent out before sunset, and straightway the young folks of the village were thrown into a fever of preparation and pleasurable anticipation. Tom’s excitement enabled him to keep awake until a pretty late hour, and he had good hopes of hearing Huck’s “maow,” and of having his treasure to astonish Becky and the picnickers with, next day; but he was disappointed. No signal came that night.
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Morning came, eventually, and by ten or eleven o’clock a giddy and rollicking company were gathered at Judge Thatcher’s, and everything was ready for a start. It was not the custom for elderly people to mar the picnics with their presence. The children were considered safe enough under the wings of a few young ladies of eighteen and a few young gentlemen of twenty-three or thereabouts. The old steam ferry-boat was chartered for the occasion; presently the gay throng filed up the main street laden with provision-baskets. Sid was sick and had to miss the fun; Mary remained at home to entertain him. The last thing Mrs. Thatcher said to Becky, was: