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The Adventures of Tom Sawyer




  The Adventures of Tom Sawyer

  The next day Tom and Huck walked back to the haunted house.

  Inside was a dirt floor with weeds growing everywhere. The fireplace was crumbling. And cobwebs hung from the ceiling like curtains!

  The boys climbed a rickety staircase to look upstairs. They peeked in a closet in the corner. But nothing was in it. As they turned to go back downstairs, Tom heard a noise.

  The boys lay on the floor and peered through a knothole. Two men were entering the house!

  Text copyright © 1995 by Random House, Inc. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States by Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York, and simultaneously in Canada by Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto.

  www.steppingstonesbooks.com

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Kulling, Monica.

  The adventures of Tom Sawyer / by Mark Twain ; adapted by Monica Kulling.

  p. cm.

  “A Stepping Stone book.”

  SUMMARY: A simple retelling of the adventures of Tom and his friends, who witness a murder by the villainous Injun Joe and sail the Mississippi River pretending to be pirates.

  eISBN: 978-0-307-80868-4

  [1. Mississippi River—Fiction. 2. Missouri—History—19th century—Fiction. 3. Adventure and adventurers—Fiction.] I. Twain, Mark, 1835–1910. Adventures of Tom Sawyer. II. Title. PZ7.K9490155Ad 2005 [Fic]—dc22 2004014110

  RANDOM HOUSE and colophon are registered trademarks and A STEPPING STONE BOOK and colophon are trademarks of Random House, Inc.

  v3.1

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  1. Tom at Work

  2. The New Girl

  3. Murder at Midnight

  4. Running Away

  5. A Pirate’s Life

  6. The Funeral

  7. Tom’s Dream

  8. Muff Potter’s Trial

  9. Buried Treasure

  10. Lost!

  11. Found!

  12. Gold!

  About the Authors

  Chapter One

  Tom at Work

  “Tom!” hollered Aunt Polly.

  There was no answer.

  “Tom!”

  Aunt Polly looked everywhere for her young nephew, Tom Sawyer. He wasn’t in his bedroom. That meant he was probably up to no good. Tom was an orphan with a thirst for adventure. But sometimes his trouble-making was more than she could bear.

  “Where on earth has that boy gone, I wonder? T-o-m-m-m!” she screamed.

  Aunt Polly peered over the glasses perched at the end of her nose.

  “If I get hold of you, Tom …” she muttered. Aunt Polly poked a broom under the bed. But Tom wasn’t there.

  Aunt Polly went to the porch door. She shouted out into the garden.

  “Tom!”

  A door creaked quietly behind Aunt Polly. She turned around just in time to catch Tom sneaking out of the closet. She grabbed the boy by the shirt collar. His hands and face were filthy. But he was grinning from ear to ear.

  “What were you doing in there?” she demanded.

  “Nothing,” said Tom, suddenly sheepish.

  “Nothing! Look at your hands. Look at your mouth. What is this mess?”

  “I don’t know,” replied Tom. He tried to look innocent.

  “Well, I know,” said his aunt. “It’s jam. I’ve told you forty times to leave that jam alone. Now hand me that switch in the closet.”

  Tom gave Aunt Polly the willow switch. He was in a pickle now!

  Aunt Polly lifted the switch above her head. She was just about to strike Tom on the rear when he cried, “Aunt Polly! Look behind you! What’s that?”

  The old lady whirled around. In a flash Tom was out the door and scrambling over the fence.

  Aunt Polly shook her head and laughed.

  “That rascal! When will I learn? He’s played that trick on me so many times I should know it by now.”

  Aunt Polly worried about Tom. She wanted her nephew to grow up to be a good man. She worried that he skipped school too much. She knew he would skip school that very afternoon.

  “I’ll have to punish him tomorrow,” Aunt Polly decided. “I’ll make him work. Tom hates work. But I’ve got to do right by him.”

  Saturday morning was a beautiful day, and all the world was out enjoying it. Everyone except poor Tom.

  Tom was on the sidewalk with a bucket of whitewash and a long-handled brush. He looked at the fence in front of him. It stretched ninety feet long and nine feet high. Painting it would take forever.

  Tom dipped his brush into the bucket. He ran it over the first plank. After one stroke he stopped and saw how much more there was left to do. He sat down on the curb and sighed.

  Tom thought of all the excitement he was missing. Soon the other boys would walk by. They would make fun of him.

  Suddenly Tom saw Ben Rogers coming down the street. Tom picked up the brush and went back to work. He had a plan.

  Ben walked right up to Tom. He was eating an apple. Tom’s mouth watered for the apple, but he kept painting.

  “You have to work?” teased Ben. “I’m going swimming. Don’t you wish you could come?”

  Tom stepped back and looked at Ben thoughtfully.

  “What do you mean by ‘work’?” he asked.

  “What you’re doing is work, isn’t it?” replied Ben.

  “Well, maybe it is, and maybe it isn’t. All I know is, it suits Tom Sawyer.”

  Tom turned back to the fence and started whitewashing once more.

  “You mean you like what you’re doing?”

  Tom kept painting.

  “Why not? Does a boy get to whitewash a fence every day?”

  Ben watched Tom’s brush go back and forth. The fence looked clean and white where Tom had painted it. Tom made whitewashing look easy. He made it look fun!

  “Tom, let me whitewash a little,” asked Ben.

  But Tom wouldn’t give up his brush.

  “No, I don’t think so,” he said. “Aunt Polly is real fussy about the street fence. If it were the back fence, maybe. But this fence needs a good eye.

  “There’s only one boy in a thousand, maybe two thousand, who can do this job right.”

  Ben begged. Then he offered Tom his apple. Only two bites were gone from it. Tom sighed and handed Ben the brush. He took the apple and sat on a barrel in the shade. Ben painted and sweated in the sun. The plan worked!

  After Ben, Billy Fisher came along. Billy gave Tom a good kite for a turn at whitewashing. Then there was Johnny Miller. He gave Tom a dead rat tied to a string. And so on and so on, hour after hour.

  By early afternoon Tom had a pile of goodies at his feet. And the fence had three coats of whitewash on it!

  Tom told Aunt Polly that he had finished painting.

  “May I go and play now?”

  “What? Already?” asked Aunt Polly. She couldn’t believe it. She peered over her glasses.

  “You can’t be finished already! How much have you done?”

  “It’s all done, Aunt. Come and see.”

  “Tom, don’t lie to me,” replied Aunt Polly.

  Tom grabbed Aunt Polly by the hand and took her to the freshly painted fence. The long, tall fence was white as snow!

  Aunt Polly was so pleased that she gave Tom a shiny apple. He thanked her, but when her back was turned, he nabbed a fresh-baked doughnut!

  Tom ran outside to play with his friends. There wasn’t too much left of his Saturday.

  Chapter Two

  The New Girl
r />   Monday was another school day. Tom hated school more than he hated work. There was only one good reason to go to school—the new girl in town! Tom had seen her and instantly fallen in love. He had tried all his tricks to get her to look at him. He even performed handstands. She acted as if she didn’t see him!

  But even the new girl wasn’t enough to make Tom want to go to school. He pretended to be sick. Tom moaned and groaned until Aunt Polly came into his room.

  “Tom, what’s the matter with you?” she asked.

  “Oh, Auntie,” moaned Tom. “My sore toe is killing me!”

  “Your sore toe!” cried Aunt Polly. “That’s what you’ve been complaining about? Stop this nonsense and get out of bed. I don’t want you to be late for school.”

  “Oh, my tooth! My tooth!” whined Tom. He covered his right cheek with both hands.

  “Now your tooth hurts?” asked Aunt Polly. She peered into Tom’s mouth and wiggled a tooth.

  “That front one is loose. I’ll have to pull it out.”

  Tom jumped out of bed. “Please don’t pull it, Aunt. It doesn’t hurt anymore. I don’t want to stay home from school.”

  In the end Aunt Polly pulled out Tom’s loose tooth and sent Tom to school.

  On the way Tom met Huckleberry Finn.

  Huck’s father drank too much and didn’t care what Huck did. Huck was the only boy in town who didn’t have to go to school or church. He never had to wash or put on clean clothes. He could fish or swim whenever he wanted.

  All the boys in town wanted to be like Huck. Their mothers told them not to play with him. But Tom played with Huck every chance he got.

  “Hello, Huckleberry! What’s that you got?” Tom greeted him.

  “A dead cat.”

  “What’s a dead cat good for, Huck?”

  “Good to cure warts.”

  “I play with frogs so much I’ve got lots of warts,” said Tom. “Say, how do you cure warts with a dead cat?”

  “Well,” replied Huck, “you take a dead cat to a graveyard at midnight. You chant some words at a freshly dug grave, and the warts fall off.”

  Huck was going to the graveyard that night. Tom thought that was a fine idea and asked to tag along. Huck agreed to call for Tom just before midnight, and Tom continued on his way.

  By the time Tom entered the school classroom he was late. Mr. Dobbins, the teacher, asked Tom where he had been.

  Tom usually made up a story when he was late. But not today. Tom saw an empty seat beside the new girl on the girls’ side of the room. He knew he would be punished if he said he had been with Huck Finn. He would be sent to sit beside the new girl!

  “I stopped to talk with Huckleberry Finn!” Tom proudly announced to the class.

  Mr. Dobbins stared in surprise.

  “Thomas Sawyer! This is a most astounding confession!” Mr. Dobbins said, and sent Tom over to the girls’ side of the room.

  Tom sat at the end of the pine bench next to the new girl. Winks and whispers flew around the classroom. But Tom didn’t care. He pretended to read a book.

  Soon everyone went back to their schoolwork.

  Tom looked casually at the new girl. She saw his gaze and made a face. She turned away from Tom. When she turned back, there was a peach on her desk.

  Tom wrote on his slate: PLEASE TAKE IT. I GOT MORE.

  Then Tom began to draw. With his left hand, he hid what he was drawing. The girl tried to ignore him. But she couldn’t help wondering what was on the slate.

  “Let me see it,” she whispered.

  Tom had drawn a house with smoke coming out of the chimney. A stick man stood in front of the house. Tom’s drawing wasn’t that good, but the girl was impressed.

  “I wish I could draw,” she said.

  “It’s easy,” whispered Tom. “Stay for lunch and I’ll teach you. What’s your name?”

  “Becky Thatcher. What’s yours? Oh, I know. It’s Thomas Sawyer.”

  “They only call me that when I’m bad. I’m Tom when I’m good. You call me Tom, will you?”

  Then Tom began to scrawl some words on the slate. He hid them from Becky. She begged to see what he had written.

  “Promise you won’t tell.”

  “I promise. Cross my heart.”

  Tom let his hand slip a little. The message came into view. The words I Love You were carefully printed on the slate.

  “Oh, you bad thing!” said Becky.

  She slapped Tom on the hand. Her face blushed pink. But she looked a little pleased, Tom thought.

  At noon Tom and Becky slipped away from the other children. They met in the lane behind the schoolhouse. Then Tom asked Becky a question.

  “Was you ever engaged, Becky?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Why, engaged to be married.”

  “No,” replied Becky.

  “Would you like to be?” asked Tom.

  “I guess so. I don’t know. What is it like?”

  “You don’t like anyone but me. Then we kiss, and that’s that. You walk with me coming to school and going home. I choose you at parties, and you choose me.”

  Becky thought being engaged sounded nice. She whispered “I love you” in Tom’s ear. Then they kissed.

  “I never heard of being engaged before,” said Becky.

  “Oh, it’s ever so jolly!” replied Tom. “Why, me and Amy Lawrence—”

  “Oh, Tom! You’ve been engaged before!”

  Becky started to cry.

  Tom tried to comfort her.

  “I don’t care for anybody but you.”

  But Becky wouldn’t listen. She was hurt and angry. Tom didn’t know what to do, so he left.

  Chapter Three

  Murder at Midnight

  As planned, Huck arrived at Aunt Polly’s house at midnight. He gave the secret call—a cat’s meow. Tom quietly sneaked out his bedroom window, and the boys headed to the graveyard to cure warts.

  The graveyard was on a hill about a mile and a half from the town. The boys entered through an opening in the crooked fence around the graveyard. A soft wind moaned through the trees.

  Tom was afraid it was the spirits of the dead telling them to go away. His heart beat faster as he and Huck looked for Hoss Williams’s grave. Hoss had just been buried. The boys needed to chant magic words over the dead cat when Hoss’s spirit was released!

  “I wish I’d called him Mister Williams,” whispered Tom. “But everyone called him Hoss.”

  “You gotta talk about the dead with respect,” agreed Huck.

  Hoss Williams’s grave was at the far end of the graveyard. The boys stopped to rest behind a big tree near the grave.

  Suddenly Tom heard muffled voices. He grabbed Huck’s arm. Could it be the spirits of the graveyard?

  Huck heard the sounds too. The boys clung together. Tom felt a chill run through him right down to his bones.

  “Those are spirits for sure, Tom! What’ll we do?” whispered Huck fearfully.

  “I—I dunno,” replied Tom, his voice shaking. “Maybe they won’t see us.”

  “Tom, spirits can see in the dark, same as cats. I wish I hadn’t come.”

  A light came into view. The voices grew louder. Then the boys saw three figures coming toward them!

  Huck was terrified. He closed his eyes and started to pray. But Tom couldn’t help but look on.

  “Shh!” he said. “They’re not spirits. They’re people. One of those voices is old Muff Potter’s. Muff’s drunk, same as usual. And I know another one of those voices—it’s Injun Joe!”

  Tom and Huck hid quietly in the shadows and watched the men. Muff Potter pushed a wheelbarrow. Injun Joe carried a rope and two shovels. The third man was Doc Robinson. He was paying Potter and

  Joe to rob Hoss Williams’s grave!

  Muff and Joe started digging. The doctor held up the lantern.

  “Hurry!” Doc Robinson ordered in a low voice.

  Potter and Joe growled an answer, then went back to their
digging. Soon a shovel hit the coffin. The two men lifted up the box and pried open the lid.

  They put Hoss’s body into the wheelbarrow and covered it with a blanket. Potter tied the whole bundle down with a long rope. He cut the end of the rope with a sharp knife.

  Then Potter said, “Give us more money, Doc. Or the deal’s off.”

  “Yeah,” Joe added. “Pay up or else!” He shook his fist in the doctor’s face. Quick as lightning, Doc Robinson hit Joe!

  Potter dropped his knife and ran to help his friend. He shoved the doctor to the ground. But Potter was too drunk to do any harm.

  Joe picked up the knife while the doctor hit Potter on the head with a rock. Potter fell to the ground, unconscious.

  Joe rushed forward and plunged Potter’s knife into the doctor’s chest. Doc Robinson staggered back a few steps and collapsed.

  The boys could hardly believe their eyes. They tore out of the graveyard as if the spirit of Hoss Williams was on their tail!

  In the dark every tree stump looked like an enemy.

  “We gotta make it to the old barn!” gasped Tom between breaths.

  Huckleberry’s hard pantings were the only reply. The boys ran on and finally burst through the open barn door. They hid in the shadows, exhausted.

  Finally Tom whispered, “Huckleberry, what do you think will happen?”

  “There will be a hanging if Doc Robinson dies,” said Huck. “If anyone finds out what we saw, Injun Joe will kill us for sure.”

  “But Muff Potter can’t tell,” said Tom. “He was whacked on the head. He didn’t see a thing.”

  “By hokey, that’s so, Tom!” replied Huck. “Let’s swear to keep mum.”

  Tom wrote a pledge on a piece of pine shingle.

  MAY WE DROP DOWN

  DEAD IN OUR TRACKS

  IF WE EVER TELL.

  The boys pricked their fingers and signed the pledge in blood.

  By the time Tom crawled into bed it was almost morning. He fell asleep instantly. Huck slept inside an empty barrel.

  The next day everyone heard the shocking news that Muff Potter had murdered the doctor!

  The sheriff marched Potter into town. Potter was confused and afraid. He fell down sobbing.

  “I never done it, friends, upon my word and honor, I never done it. Tell them, Joe.”