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as your fist, which
had been took out of the fourth stomach of an ox, and he used to do
magic with it. He said there was a spirit inside of it, and it knowed
everything. So I went to him that night and told him pap was here
again, for I found his tracks in the snow. What I wanted to know was,
what he was going to do, and was he going to stay? Jim got out his
hair-ball and said something over it, and then he held it up and dropped
it on the floor. It fell pretty solid, and only rolled about
Details
was that glad to see me
again he didn't know what to do. And he wanted to know all about it
right off, because it was a grand adventure, and mysterious, and so it
hit him where he lived. But I said, leave it alone till by and by; and
told his driver to wait, and we drove off a little piece, and I told
him the kind of a fix I was in, and what did he reckon we better do? He
said, let him alone a minute, and don't disturb him. So he thought and
thought, and pretty soon he says:
“It's all right; I've got it. Take my trunk in your wagon, and let on
it's your'n; and you turn back and fool along slow, so as to get to the
house about the time you ought to; and I'll go towards town a piece, and
take a fresh start, and get there a quarter or a half an hour after you;
and you needn't let on to know me at first.”
I says:
“All right; but wait a minute. There's one more thing--a thing that
_nobody_ don't know but me. And that is, there's a nigger here that
I'm a-trying to steal out of slavery, and his name is _Jim_--old Miss
Watson's Jim.”
He says:
“What! Why, Jim is--”
He stopped and went to studying. I says:
“I know what you'll say. You'll say it's dirty, low-down business; but
what if it is? I'm low down; and I'm a-going to steal him, and I want
you keep mum and not let on. Will you?”
His eye lit up, and he says:
“I'll _help_ you steal him!”
Well, I let go all holts then, like I was shot. It was the most
astonishing speech I ever heard--and I'm bound to say Tom Sawyer fell
considerable in my estimation. Only I couldn't believe it. Tom Sawyer
a _nigger-stealer!_
“Oh, shucks!” I says; “you're joking.”
“I ain't joking, either.”
“Well, then,” I says, “joking or no joking, if you hear anything said
about a runaway nigger, don't forget to remember that _you_ don't know
nothing about him, and I don't know nothing about him.”
Then we took the trunk and put it in my wagon, and he drove off his
way and I drove mine. But of course I forgot all about drivin