then the bed hid him.  Mrs. Phelps she jumps for him, and says: “Has he come?” “No,” says her husband. “Good-_ness_ gracious!” she says, “what in the warld can have become of him?” “I can't imagine,” says the old gentleman; “and I must say it makes me dreadful uneasy.” “Uneasy!” she says; “I'm ready to go distracted!  He _must_ a come; and you've missed him along the road.  I _know_ it's so--something tells me so.” “Why, Sally, I _couldn't_ miss him along the road--_you_ know that.” “But oh, dear, dear, what _will_ Sis say!  He must a come!  You must a missed him.  He--” “Oh, don't distress me any more'n I'm already distressed.  I don't know what in the world to make of it.  I'm at my wit's end, and I don't mind acknowledging 't I'm right down scared.  But there's no hope that he's come; for he _couldn't_ come and me miss him.  Sally, it's terrible--just terrible--something's happened to the boat, sure!” “Why, Silas!  Look yonder!--up the road!--ain't that somebody coming?” He sprung to the window at the head of the bed, and that give Mrs. Phelps the chance she wanted.  She stooped down quick at the foot of the bed and give me a pull, and out I come; and when he turned back from the window there she stood, a-beaming and a-smiling like a house afire, and I standing pretty meek and sweaty alongside.  The old gentleman stared, and says: “Why, who's that?” “Who do you reckon 't is?” “I hain't no idea.  Who _is_ it?” “It's _Tom Sawyer!_” By jings, I most slumped through the floor!  But there warn't no time to swap knives; the old man grabbed me by the hand and shook, and kept on shaking; and all the time how the woman did dance around and laugh and cry; and then how they both did fire off questions about Sid, and Mary, and the rest of the tribe. But if they was joyful, it warn't nothing to what I was; for it was like being born again, I was so glad to find out who I was.  Well, they froze to me for two hours; and at last, when my chin was so tired it cou