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“Huck, that money wasn’t ever in No. 2!”

“What!” Huck searched his comrade’s face keenly. “Tom, have you got on the track of that money again?”

“Huck, it’s in the cave!”

Huck’s eyes blazed.

“Say it again, Tom.”

“The money’s in the cave!”

“Tom—honest injun, now—is it fun, or earnest?”

“Earnest, Huck—just as earnest as ever I was in my life. Will you go in there with me and help get it out?”

“I bet I will! I will if it’s where we can blaze our way to it and not get lost.”

“Huck, we can do that without the least little bit of trouble in the world.”

“Good as wheat! What makes you think the money’s—”

“Huck, you just wait till we get in there. If we don’t find it I’ll agree to give you my drum and every thing I’ve got in the world. I will, by jings.”

“All right—it’s a whiz. When do you say?”

“Right now, if you say it. Are you strong enough?”

“Is it far in the cave? I ben on my pins a little, three or four days, now, but I can’t walk more’n a mile, Tom—least I don’t think I could.”

“It’s about five mile into there the way anybody but me would go, Huck, but there’s a mighty short cut that they don’t anybody but me know about. Huck, I’ll take you right to it in a skiff. I’ll float the skiff down there, and I’ll pull it back again all by myself. You needn’t ever turn your hand over.”

“Less start right off, Tom.”

“All right. We want some bread and meat, and our pipes, and a little bag or two, and two or three kite-strings, and some of these new-fangled things they call lucifer matches. I tell you, many’s the time I wished I had some when I was in there before.”

A trifle after noon the boys borrowed a small skiff from a citizen who was absent, and got under way at once. When they were several miles below “Cave Hollow,” Tom said:

“Now you see this bluff here looks all alike all the way down from the cave hollow—no houses, no wood-yards, bushes all alike. But do you see that white place up yonder where there’s been a landslide? Well, that’s one of my marks. We’ll get ashore, now.”

They landed.

“Now, Huck, where we’re a-standing you could touch that hole I got out of with a fishing-pole. See if you can find it.”

Huck searched all the place about, and found nothing. Tom proudly marched into a thick clump of sumach bushes and said:

“Here you are! Look at it, Huck; it’s the snuggest hole in this country. You just keep mum about it. All along I’ve been wanting to be a robber, but I knew I’d got to have a thing like this, and where to run across it was the bother. We’ve got it now, and we’ll keep it quiet, only we’ll let Joe Harper and Ben Rogers in—because of course there’s got to be a Gang, or else there wouldn’t be any style about it. Tom Sawyer’s Gang—it sounds splendid, don’t it, Huck?”

“Well, it just does, Tom. And who’ll we rob?”

“Oh, most anybody. Waylay people—that’s mostly the way.”

“And kill them?”

“No, not always. Hive them in the cave till they raise a ransom.”

“What’s a ransom?”

“Money. You make them raise all they can, off’n their friends; and after you’ve kept them a year, if it ain’t raised then you kill them. That’s the general way. Only you don’t kill the women. You shut up the women, but you don’t kill them. They’re always beautiful and rich, and awfully scared. You take their watches and things, but you always take your hat off and talk polite. They ain’t anybody as polite as robbers—you’ll see that in any book. Well, the women get to loving you, and after they’ve been in the cave a week or two weeks they stop crying and after that you couldn’t get them to leave. If you drove them out they’d turn right around and come back. It’s so in all the books.”

“Why, it’s real bully, Tom. I believe it’s better’n to be a pirate.”

“Yes, it’s better in some ways, because it’s close to home and circuses and all that.”

By this time everything was ready and the boys entered the hole, Tom in the lead. They toiled their way to the farther end of the tunnel, then made their spliced kite-strings fast and moved on. A few steps brought them to the spring, and Tom felt a shudder quiver all through him. He showed Huck the fragment of candle-wick perched on a lump of clay against the wall, and described how he and Becky had watched the flame struggle and expire.

The boys began to quiet down to whispers, now, for the stillness and gloom of the place oppressed their spirits. They went on, and presently entered and followed Tom’s other corridor until they reached the “jumping-off place.” The candles revealed the fact that it was not really a precipice, but only a steep clay hill twenty or thirty feet high. Tom whispered:

“Now I’ll show you something, Huck.”

He held his candle aloft and said:

“Look as far around the corner as you can. Do you see that? There—on the big rock over yonder—done with candle-smoke.”

“Tom, it’s a cross!”

“Now where’s your Number Two? ‘under the cross,’ hey? Right yonder’s where I saw Injun Joe poke up his candle, Huck!”

Huck stared at the mystic sign awhile, and then said with a shaky voice:

“Tom, less git out of here!”

“What! and leave the treasure?”

“Yes—leave it. Injun Joe’s ghost is round about there, certain.”

“No it ain’t, Huck, no it ain’t. It would ha’nt the place where he died—away out at the mouth of the cave—five mile from here.”

“No, Tom, it wouldn’t. It would hang round the money. I know the ways of ghosts, and so do you.”