TOM SAWYER, DETECTIVE

celebrated, and let the corpse alone the way the others

done. But pretty soon he sort of come to himself

again and says:

“Uncle Silas, don’t you say another word like that.

It’s dangerous, and there ain’t a shadder of truth in it.”

Aunt Sally and Benny was thankful to hear him say

that, and they said the same; but the old man he

wagged his head sorrowful and hopeless, and the tears

run down his face, and he says;

“No — I done it; poor Jubiter, I done it!”

It was dreadful to hear him say it. Then he went

on and told about it, and said it happened the day

me and Tom come — along about sundown. He said

Jubiter pestered him and aggravated him till he was so

mad he just sort of lost his mind and grabbed up a stick

and hit him over the head with all his might, and

Jubiter dropped in his tracks. Then he was scared and

sorry, and got down on his knees and lifted his head

up, and begged him to speak and say he wasn’t dead;

and before long he come to, and when he see who it

was holding his head, he jumped like he was ‘most

scared to death, and cleared the fence and tore into the

woods, and was gone. So he hoped he wasn’t hurt

bad.

“But laws,” he says, “it was only just fear that

gave him that last little spurt of strength, and of course

it soon played out and he laid down in the bush, and

there wasn’t anybody to help him, and he died.”

Then the old man cried and grieved, and said he was

a murderer and the mark of Cain was on him, and he

had disgraced his family and was going to be found

out and hung. But Tom said:

“No, you ain’t going to be found out. You DIDN’T

kill him. ONE lick wouldn’t kill him. Somebody else

done it.”

“Oh, yes,” he says, “I done it — nobody else.

Who else had anything against him? Who else COULD

have anything against him?”

He looked up kind of like he hoped some of us could

mention somebody that could have a grudge against

that harmless no-account, but of course it warn’t no

use — he HAD us; we couldn’t say a word. He

noticed that, and he saddened down again, and I never

see a face so miserable and so pitiful to see. Tom

had a sudden idea, and says:

“But hold on! — somebody BURIED him. Now

who –”

He shut off sudden. I knowed the reason. It give

me the cold shudders when he said them words, because

right away I remembered about us seeing Uncle Silas

prowling around with a long-handled shovel away in

the night that night. And I knowed Benny seen him,

too, because she was talking about it one day. The

minute Tom shut off he changed the subject and went

to begging Uncle Silas to keep mum, and the rest of us

done the same, and said he MUST, and said it wasn’t his

business to tell on himself, and if he kept mum nobody

would ever know; but if it was found out and any

harm come to him it would break the family’s hearts

and kill them, and yet never do anybody any good.

So at last he promised. We was all of us more com-

fortable, then, and went to work to cheer up the old

man. We told him all he’d got to do was to keep still,

and it wouldn’t be long till the whole thing would blow

over and be forgot. We all said there wouldn’t any-

body ever suspect Uncle Silas, nor ever dream of such

a thing, he being so good and kind, and having such a

good character; and Tom says, cordial and hearty, he

says:

“Why, just look at it a minute; just consider.

Here is Uncle Silas, all these years a preacher — at his

own expense; all these years doing good with all his

might and every way he can think of — at his own ex-

pense, all the time; always been loved by everybody,

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