The Adventures of Tom Sawyer Page 3

  “You let me make a fool of myself. What kind of boy are you?” Aunt Polly asked.

  Tom was sorry for playing this joke on his aunt. It was mean. He hung his head and apologized.

  “Why did you come over that night?” asked Aunt Polly. “Did you come to laugh at our troubles?”

  “Oh, no, Auntie, honest,” said Tom earnestly. “I came to tell you we were fine and not to worry. I even wrote you a note. But then I got the idea about the funeral.

  “I put the note back into my pocket and kissed you good night. Now I wish I had woken you up.”

  The hard lines in his aunt’s face softened. She looked at her nephew tenderly.

  “Did you kiss me, Tom?”

  “Why, yes, I did.”

  After Tom went back to school, Aunt Polly picked up his jacket. She wanted to look in the pocket. She wondered if the note was actually there. Or if this was just another one of Tom’s stories.

  Aunt Polly couldn’t decide what to do. She didn’t really want to know if Tom had lied. Finally she couldn’t hold back any longer. She put her hand into the pocket and pulled out the piece of bark. Tom had told her the truth!

  “I can forgive the boy anything now!” she cried happily.

  Chapter Eight

  Muff Potter’s Trial

  At school Tom acted like a hero. He bragged to the boys. He showed off to the girls. He pretended not to see Becky even though he was dying to talk to her.

  Tom’s actions hurt Becky’s feelings. Instead of being glad Tom was alive, she wished he were dead! She pretended to be interested in another boy.

  After lunch, Tom found Becky alone in the classroom. She was standing at Mr. Dobbins’s desk. She had found the key to the top drawer. She was reading the teacher’s secret book!

  Tom crept up quietly behind Becky. His shadow fell across the page.

  Becky slammed the book shut, tearing one of the pages! She quickly locked the book in the drawer and burst into tears.

  “Tom Sawyer, you are just as mean as you can be,” cried Becky. “How dare you sneak up on me? You made me rip the page. Now you’re going to tell on me, and Mr. Dobbins will punish me. Oh, what’ll I do? I’ve never been punished in school before.”

  Tom couldn’t believe his ears. Never punished? Not once! Mr. Dobbins punished. Tom at least three or four times a week.

  Becky stamped her foot.

  “You’re mean, mean, mean!” she cried, and ran out of the room.

  Tom didn’t want to tell on Becky. If Mr. Dobbins asked who had ripped the page, Tom wouldn’t tattle. Becky would never be punished if he could help it!

  That afternoon Mr. Dobbins gave his students work to do. He unlocked the drawer and took out his secret book.

  Tom and Becky watched him carefully. When Mr. Dobbins came to the torn page, he instantly stood up.

  “Who tore this book?” he demanded.

  The classroom was silent.

  “Benjamin Rogers, did you tear this book?” Mr. Dobbins asked.

  Ben shook his head no.

  “Joseph Harper, did you?”

  “No.”

  Tom was getting nervous. He knew Becky wouldn’t be able to take it. She would confess!

  “Amy Lawrence?”

  “No.”

  “Rebecca Thatcher?”

  Tom looked at Becky. Her face was white with fear.

  “Did you tear this book?”

  Tom jumped to his feet.

  “I did it!” he shouted.

  Tom walked to the front of the room. On the way his eyes met Becky’s. She looked surprised and grateful. As he passed her desk, she whispered, “Tom, you are so noble!”

  That night Tom fell asleep dreaming about Becky.

  Finally school was over for the year. It was also time for Muff Potter’s trial. The whole town was talking about it.

  When anyone said a word about the murder, chills ran down Tom’s spine. One day he took Huck aside.

  “Huck, have you ever told anyone what we saw?”

  “Course not,” replied Huck. “Why?”

  “I was just afraid you had.”

  “Why, Tom Sawyer, we wouldn’t be alive two days if that got out. You know that.”

  Tom relaxed. After a pause he said, “I guess we’re safe as long as we keep mum.”

  Huck agreed. The boys swore again that they would never tell who really killed Doc Robinson.

  “I guess Muff Potter’s a goner,” said Tom. “Don’t you feel sorry for him sometimes?”

  “Most always,” replied Huck. “He’s a drunk and a loafer, but he’s not a murderer. He gives me half a fish when he’s only got one. He’s stood by me when I was out of luck.”

  “He’s fixed my kites plenty of times,” offered Tom. “I wish we could get him out of trouble.”

  On the day of the trial no one stood up for Muff Potter. Even his own lawyer couldn’t say a good word for him! It looked as if Muff Potter was going to be hanged.

  Tom knew he had to do something to help Potter.

  After the lunch break, Potter’s lawyer announced to the court, “Thomas Sawyer is taking the stand!”

  Tom told the court where he was the night of the murder.

  “I was hiding behind a tree near Mr. Williams’s grave,” he began.

  Injun Joe stirred nervously in his seat.

  “What did you take to Mr. Williams’s grave?” asked the lawyer.

  “Only a—a dead cat,” stuttered Tom.

  Laughter rippled through the courtroom.

  Tom went on.

  “The doctor hit Muff Potter over the head with a rock. Potter fell. That’s when Injun Joe jumped on the doctor with the knife and—”

  Crash! Injun Joe had jumped through the courtroom window. He was gone!

  Chapter Nine

  Buried Treasure

  This time Tom really was a hero. Old people loved him. Young people wanted to be like him. There was even a story about him in the town’s newspaper!

  Tom’s days were wonderful. But his nights were horrible. Every night he dreamed that Joe was after him!

  Huck was also scared. Tom didn’t tell anyone that Huck saw the murder. But Huck was still afraid his part in the story would leak out.

  The sheriff and the townspeople searched for Joe. But no one found him. He had vanished!

  The summer days drifted by, and the boys eventually forgot their fears.

  One day Tom wanted to look for buried treasure. Huck was all for it.

  “Where is treasure hidden?” asked Huck.

  “On islands or in rotten chests under dead trees,” replied Tom. “The best place to find treasure is under the floor of a haunted house.”

  “Who hides it?”

  “Robbers,” said Tom. “They hide it so they can get it later. Then they forget where they hid it or they die before they come back. So it’s there for the taking!”

  “If it was me,” said Huck, “I wouldn’t hide it. I’d have a pie and soda every day. And I’d go to the circus! I’d spend it all and have a good time.”

  “So would I,” agreed Tom.

  Huck and Tom spent the next few nights digging under dead trees. But they had no luck.

  “We’ve got to try the haunted house on Cardiff Hill,” said Tom.

  Neither boy liked the haunted house. But their dreams of treasure were stronger than their fears. The next night the boys walked the three miles to the haunted house. They brought a pick and shovel and found a dead tree in the yard. The boys started digging.

  After a while Huck asked, “Do robbers always bury treasure as deep as this?”

  “Nearly always,” said Tom. “Sometimes they bury a dead man with the treasure. Just to keep an eye on it for them.”

  Now Huck was really nervous.

  The boys dug and dug. They chose one spot after another. They worked and sweated but didn’t find a thing.

  Suddenly Tom dropped his shovel.

  “Let’s go inside the house! I’m sure the
treasure is buried there.”

  “I hate haunted houses, Tom,” said Huck. “Ghosts live there. They peek over your shoulder and grit their teeth. I couldn’t stand it.”

  “But, Huck, ghosts always look like blue lights. And nobody’s ever seen blue lights in this house. Besides, ghosts only come out at night. We’ll come back during the day.”

  “You know haunted houses are just as scary during the day,” said Huck. “We’ll try the haunted house if you say so. But I think we may be sorry.”

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

  “Looky here, Tom, do you know what day it is?” Huck asked.

  Tom counted the days of the week on his fingers. It was Friday. Nobody ever messed with ghosts on a Friday!

  “Sorry, Huck,” said Tom. “I didn’t think about that! A person can’t be too careful.”

  “It just popped into my mind,” Huck replied. “We can’t go into the haunted house on a Friday. There are lucky days and unlucky days. And Friday is definitely unlucky!”

  It was decided. The boys gave up treasure hunting for the day. Instead they played Robin Hood until long after the sun had set.

  On Saturday, Tom and Huck pushed open the creaky door of 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.

  “Shh!” he said.

  “What is it?” asked Huck nervously.

  “Shh! There! Hear it?”

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

  One man was dirty and mean-looking. He had a deep scar across his face. The other man had a bushy white beard and long white hair. Tom had seen him lurking around town.

  “That job’s not dangerous!” the man with the beard was saying.

  The voice made the boys gasp and shake. The voice was Injun Joe’s!

  “Coming here during the day is dangerous. Wait for me up the river. I’ve got a job to do in town. Then we’re off to Texas!”

  Tom knew what Joe’s job was—to get revenge!

  “Let’s bury our loot here,” said Joe. “Six hundred and fifty in silver is a lot to carry.”

  Tom and Huck looked at each other. What luck! Here was their treasure!

  Joe took out his knife and started to dig a hole in the floor. Pretty soon his knife struck something hard.

  “There’s a box already buried here,” he said. “Give me a hand. Let’s see what’s inside.”

  Joe reached into the box and pulled out a handful of gold coins!

  “We’re rich!” said Joe’s friend. “Let’s put it back in the ground for now. I saw a pick and shovel outside the house.”

  Suddenly Joe got a funny look on his face.

  “Where did those tools come from?” he asked. “I think someone’s here. And I’m sure he’s upstairs.”

  The boys were sick with terror! Their nightmare was about to come true. Injun Joe was climbing the staircase! He had a knife in his hand. Soon he would find them and then …

  Crash! The staircase broke under Joe’s weight. He fell to the ground in a heap of rotten wood.

  “Who cares if someone’s been here?” said the other man. “I bet he left when he saw us. Let’s hide our loot somewhere else.”

  “We’ll take it to my den,” agreed Joe, brushing himself off. “We’ll hide it in number two, under the cross.”

  The men left. Tom and Huck climbed to the ground and went home.

  That night Tom lay awake thinking about the buried treasure. If only he could find Joe’s den, he and Huck would be rich!

  Chapter Ten

  Lost!

  Tom had to find Joe’s gold. Joe said that he was stashing the loot in “number two.” That probably was a room in the town tavern. Tom asked Huck to watch the tavern. If Joe or his friend left the place, Huck could follow them and find out if the loot was hidden someplace else.

  Huck did just as Tom said. At ten o’clock, two men stepped out of the tavern. One was carrying a bundle under his arm. It was Injun Joe and the man with the scar!

  Huck followed, as quietly as a cat. The men walked up River Street for three blocks. Then they headed for Cardiff Hill.

  They stopped in the woods outside the Widow Douglas’s house. Huck hid behind a large elm tree.

  “There’s a light in her place,” said Joe. “She’s got company. No matter. I’m going to get that Widow Douglas! Her husband got me in trouble many times. I aim to pay her back. And I’m willing to wait. I’ll kill her if I have to!”

  Huck didn’t waste a minute. He raced past the rock quarry to Mr. Jones’s house.

  He banged on the door. Mr. Jones opened the window.

  “Who’s banging?” he said. “What do you want?”

  “It’s Huckleberry Finn. Quick, let me in!”

  “That name doesn’t open many doors around here,” said Mr. Jones.

  Mr. Jones thought Huck was a loafer and a good-for-nothing. But he let him in anyway.

  Huck quickly told him what was happening at the Widow Douglas’s house. Mr. Jones grabbed a gun and ran to the Widow’s. Huck stayed behind a tree.

  Suddenly there was a gunshot. Huck bolted like a jackrabbit! He ran away as fast as his legs could carry him.

  The next day Huck knocked at Mr. Jones’s door again.

  “Who’s there?”

  Huck’s scared voice whispered, “Please let me in. It’s Huck Finn!”

  “Now, that’s a name that can open this door night or day!” replied Mr. Jones. “Enter, lad, and welcome!”

  “I was awful scared last night,” said Huck. “I took off at the gun blast. And I didn’t stop running for three miles!”

  “Poor lad, you do look like you’ve had a hard night,” replied Mr. Jones.

  Then he told Huck what had happened.

  “The gunshot scared them. They took off! But they dropped something. I went back with a lamp and found it.”

  “What was it?” Huck asked nervously. He hoped it wasn’t the treasure.

  “Burglars’ tools!” replied Mr. Jones.

  Huck gave a sigh of relief.

  “I’m telling the Widow you saved her life,” said Mr. Jones.

  “Please don’t!” begged Huck. “I don’t want anyone to know.”

  Huck was afraid that Joe would find out who gave the warning. Then Huck would really be in trouble!

  Huck couldn’t wait to tell Tom about his adventure. Tom had gone on a picnic with Becky and a large party of friends. But Tom and Becky never came back! They were supposed to have spent the night at Mrs. Harper’s.

  After church, Aunt Polly and Mrs. Thatcher found Mrs. Harper.

  “My young nephew’s missing,” said Aunt Polly. “He mentioned something about spending the night at your house. But he didn’t show up for church.”

  “And my Becky must really be tired if she’s still sleeping at your place,” added Mrs. Thatcher.

  But Mrs. Harper didn’t know where the children were. Neither Tom nor Becky had slept over at her house.

  Joe Harper was standing next to his mother.

  “Have you seen my Tom, Joe?” asked Aunt Polly.

  “No, ma’am,” replied Joe.

  Joe couldn’t remember when he last saw Tom and Becky. A ferryboat had taken the party to a spot a few miles down the Mississippi River. After the picnic, the group had played games and explored McDougal’s cave. Then the ferry took them back home. Joe thought Becky and Tom were on the ferry.

  One of the older boys came over.

  “I didn’t see them on the ferry coming home,” he said. “And if they weren’t on the ferry, then they must still be in the cave!”

  Aunt Polly and Mrs. Thatcher broke down crying.

  The awful
news spread fast. In half an hour, two hundred men were at McDougal’s cave! They brought along food and a large supply of candles. They searched and searched the cave. But they didn’t find Tom and Becky.

  Tom and Becky were lost in the cave. They had talked and walked without looking where they were going. When it was time to meet the others, they couldn’t find their way back.

  “Oh, Tom, we didn’t mark our trail!” cried Becky.

  Tom was scared. He knew he didn’t know the way out. There were too many tunnels in the cave.

  “The passages are all mixed up, Becky!” said Tom. “I’m not sure how long we’ll be stuck here. We better burn one candle and save the other for later.”

  “We never, never will get out of this awful place,” cried Becky. “We’ll die here!”

  The children sat down. The short candle glowed. Bats flew through the shadows the light made. Becky was tired from fear and soon fell asleep.

  Tom listened to the dripping of water in the cave. He watched Becky’s face. He didn’t know what to do. How would they ever find their way home?

  Chapter Eleven

  Found!

  A few hours later Becky woke up. She was starving but eager to look for a way out of the cave.

  Tom had a piece of cake left from the picnic.

  “I wish it was as big as a barrel,” he said. “But something’s better than nothing.” He divided the cake, and they ate.

  They started to walk again. Once in a while Tom gave a shout. The cave walls threw his voice back a dozen times. It sounded as if someone were laughing at them!

  “Don’t, Tom,” said Becky. “It sounds so terrible.”

  “Someone might hear us, Becky,” Tom said, and he gave another shout.

  Tom and Becky walked hand in hand. They didn’t know which way to go. They just kept walking.

  Tom tried to guess how much time had gone by. Had they been in the cave for two hours or two days? Time seemed to be standing still.

  Suddenly there was a spring at their feet. They both drank some water.

  “I have to tell you something, Becky,” said Tom. “Don’t get upset.”

  Becky’s face was pale. Her eyes were big with fear.