Chapter 25

10 min

There comes a time in every rightly-constructed boy’s life when he has a raging desire to go somewhere and dig for hidden treasure. This desire suddenly came upon Tom one day. He sallied out to find Joe Harper, but failed of success. Next he sought Ben Rogers; he had gone fishing. Presently he stumbled upon Huck Finn the Red-Handed. Huck would answer. Tom took him to a private place and opened the matter to him confidentially. Huck was willing. Huck was always willing to take a hand in any enterprise that offered entertainment and required no capital, for he had a troublesome superabundance of that sort of time which is not money. “Where’ll we dig?” said Huck.

There comes a time in every properly made boy’s life when he feels a fierce urge to dig for hidden treasure. One day, this urge suddenly struck Tom. He went out to find Joe Harper but had no luck. Next he looked for Ben Rogers, but Ben had gone fishing. Soon he came across Huck Finn the Red-Handed. Huck would do. Tom took him somewhere private and told him the plan in confidence. Huck was willing. Huck was always willing to join any adventure that promised fun and cost nothing. He had far too much of the kind of time that isn’t money. “Where’ll we dig?” said Huck.

“Oh, most anywhere.”

“Oh, almost anywhere.”

“Why, is it hid all around?”

“No, indeed it ain’t. It’s hid in mighty particular places, Huck—sometimes on islands, sometimes in rotten chests under the end of a limb of an old dead tree, just where the shadow falls at midnight; but mostly under the floor in ha’nted houses.”

“No, indeed it ain’t. It’s hid in mighty particular places, Huck. Sometimes on islands, sometimes in rotten chests under the end of an old dead tree’s branch, right where the shadow falls at midnight. But mostly under the floor in haunted houses.”

“Who hides it?”

“Why, robbers, of course—who’d you reckon? Sunday-school sup’rintendents?”

“Why, robbers, of course. Who’d you reckon? Sunday-school superintendents?”

“I don’t know. If ’twas mine I wouldn’t hide it; I’d spend it and have a good time.”

“I don’t know. If it was mine, I wouldn’t hide it. I’d spend it and have a good time.”

“So would I. But robbers don’t do that way. They always hide it and leave it there.”

“Don’t they come after it any more?”

“Don’t they come for it anymore?”

“No, they think they will, but they generally forget the marks, or else they die. Anyway, it lays there a long time and gets rusty; and by and by somebody finds an old yellow paper that tells how to find the marks—a paper that’s got to be ciphered over about a week because it’s mostly signs and hy’roglyphics.”

“No, they think they will, but they generally forget the marks, or else they die. Anyway, it lays there a long time and gets rusty. And sooner or later somebody finds an old yellow paper that tells how to find the marks. The paper takes about a week to figure out because it’s mostly symbols and hieroglyphics.”

“Hyro—which?”

“Hyro, what?”

“Hy’roglyphics—pictures and things, you know, that don’t seem to mean anything.”

“Hieroglyphics, you know, pictures and things that don’t seem to mean anything.”

“Have you got one of them papers, Tom?”

“No.”

“Well then, how you going to find the marks?”

“I don’t want any marks. They always bury it under a ha’nted house or on an island, or under a dead tree that’s got one limb sticking out. Well, we’ve tried Jackson’s Island a little, and we can try it again some time; and there’s the old ha’nted house up the Still-House branch, and there’s lots of dead-limb trees—dead loads of ’em.”

“I don’t want any marks. They always bury it under a haunted house or on an island. Or under a dead tree that’s got one limb sticking out. Well, we’ve tried Jackson’s Island a little, and we can try it again sometime. And there’s the old haunted house up the Still-House branch. And there’s lots of trees with dead limbs, loads of ’em.”

“Is it under all of them?”

“How you talk! No!”

“What are you talking about! No!”

“Then how you going to know which one to go for?”

“Go for all of ’em!”

“Go for all of them!”

“Why, Tom, it’ll take all summer.”

“Well, what of that? Suppose you find a brass pot with a hundred dollars in it, all rusty and gray, or rotten chest full of di’monds. How’s that?”

“Well, so what? Suppose you find a brass pot with a hundred dollars in it, all rusty and gray, or rotten chest full of diamonds. How’s that?”

Huck’s eyes glowed.

Huck’s eyes lit up.

“That’s bully. Plenty bully enough for me. Just you gimme the hundred dollars and I don’t want no di’monds.”

“That’s great. Plenty good enough for me. Just you give me the hundred dollars and I don’t want no diamonds.”

“All right. But I bet you I ain’t going to throw off on di’monds. Some of ’em’s worth twenty dollars apiece—there ain’t any, hardly, but’s worth six bits or a dollar.”

“All right. But I bet you I ain’t going to put down diamonds. Some of them’s worth twenty dollars apiece. There ain’t hardly any worth less than seventy-five cents or a dollar.”

“No! Is that so?”

“No! Really?”

“Cert’nly—anybody’ll tell you so. Hain’t you ever seen one, Huck?”

“Certainly. Anybody’ll tell you so. Ain’t you ever seen one, Huck?”

“Not as I remember.”

“Not that I remember.”

“Oh, kings have slathers of them.”

“Oh, kings have loads of them.”

“Well, I don’ know no kings, Tom.”

“Well, I don’t know no kings, Tom.”

“I reckon you don’t. But if you was to go to Europe you’d see a raft of ’em hopping around.”

“I reckon you don’t. But if you was to go to Europe you’d see a raft of them hopping around.”

“Do they hop?”

“Hop?—your granny! No!”

“Hop? Nonsense! No!”

“Well, what did you say they did, for?”

“Well, why did you say they did?”

“Shucks, I only meant you’d see ’em—not hopping, of course—what do they want to hop for?—but I mean you’d just see ’em—scattered around, you know, in a kind of a general way. Like that old humpbacked Richard.”

“Shucks, I only meant you’d see them. Not hopping, of course. What do they want to hop for? But I mean you’d just see them scattered around, you know, in a general sort of way. Like that old humpbacked Richard.”

“Richard? What’s his other name?”

“Richard? What’s his last name?”

“He didn’t have any other name. Kings don’t have any but a given name.”

“He didn’t have any other name. Kings only have a first name.”

“No?”

“But they don’t.”

“Well, if they like it, Tom, all right; but I don’t want to be a king and have only just a given name, like a . But say—where you going to dig first?”

“Well, if they like it, Tom, all right. But I don’t want to be a king and have just a first name, like a . But say, where you going to dig first?”

“Well, I don’t know. S’pose we tackle that old dead-limb tree on the hill t’other side of Still-House branch?”

“Well, I don’t know. Suppose we tackle that old tree with the dead branch on the hill across Still-House branch?”

“I’m agreed.”

“I agree.”

So they got a crippled pick and a shovel, and set out on their three-mile tramp. They arrived hot and panting, and threw themselves down in the shade of a neighboring elm to rest and have a smoke.

So they got a damaged pickaxe and a shovel and set off on their three-mile walk. They arrived hot and out of breath. They flopped down in the shade of a nearby elm tree to rest and have a smoke.

“I like this,” said Tom.

“I like this,” Tom said.

“So do I.”

“Say, Huck, if we find a treasure here, what you going to do with your share?”

“Well, I’ll have pie and a glass of soda every day, and I’ll go to every circus that comes along. I bet I’ll have a gay time.”

“Well, I’ll have pie and a glass of soda every day. And I’ll go to every circus that comes along. I bet I’ll have a great time.”

“Well, ain’t you going to save any of it?”

“Save it? What for?”

“Why, so as to have something to live on, by and by.”

“Well, so as to have something to live on later.”

“Oh, that ain’t any use. Pap would come back to thish-yer town some day and get his claws on it if I didn’t hurry up, and I tell you he’d clean it out pretty quick. What you going to do with yourn, Tom?”

“Oh, that ain’t any use. Pap would come back to this here town someday and get his claws on it if I didn’t hurry up. And I tell you, he’d clean it out pretty quick. What you going to do with yours, Tom?”

“I’m going to buy a new drum, and a sure’nough sword, and a red necktie and a bull pup, and get married.”

“I’m going to buy a new drum, a sure-enough sword, a red necktie, and a bulldog puppy. And I’m going to get married.”

“Married!”

“That’s it.”

“Tom, you—why, you ain’t in your right mind.”

“Tom, you, why, you ain’t in your right mind.”

“Wait—you’ll see.”

“Wait. You’ll see.”

“Well, that’s the foolishest thing you could do. Look at pap and my mother. Fight! Why, they used to fight all the time. I remember, mighty well.”

“That ain’t anything. The girl I’m going to marry won’t fight.”

“Tom, I reckon they’re all alike. They’ll all comb a body. Now you better think ’bout this awhile. I tell you you better. What’s the name of the gal?”

“Tom, I reckon they’re all alike. They’ll all lay into a body. Now you better think about this awhile. I tell you, you better. What’s the name of the gal?”

“It ain’t a gal at all—it’s a girl.”

“It ain’t a gal at all. It’s a girl.”

“It’s all the same, I reckon; some says gal, some says girl—both’s right, like enough. Anyway, what’s her name, Tom?”

“It’s all the same, I reckon. Some says gal, some says girl. Both’s right, like enough. Anyway, what’s her name, Tom?”

“I’ll tell you some time—not now.”

“I’ll tell you sometime, but not now.”

“All right—that’ll do. Only if you get married I’ll be more lonesomer than ever.”

“All right, that’ll do. Only if you get married I’ll be more lonesomer than ever.”

“No you won’t. You’ll come and live with me. Now stir out of this and we’ll go to digging.”

“No you won’t. You’ll come and live with me. Now get a move on and we’ll go to digging.”

They worked and sweated for half an hour. No result. They toiled another halfhour. Still no result. Huck said:

They worked and sweated for half an hour. No results. They worked hard for another half hour. Still no results. Huck said:

“Do they always bury it as deep as this?”

“Do they always bury it this deep?”

“Sometimes—not always. Not generally. I reckon we haven’t got the right place.”

“Sometimes, but not always. Not usually. I reckon we haven’t got the right place.”

So they chose a new spot and began again. The labor dragged a little, but still they made progress. They pegged away in silence for some time. Finally Huck leaned on his shovel, swabbed the beaded drops from his brow with his sleeve, and said:

So they chose a new spot and started again. The work went a little slowly, but they still made progress. They kept digging in silence for some time. Finally Huck leaned on his shovel, wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, and said:

“Where you going to dig next, after we get this one?”

“I reckon maybe we’ll tackle the old tree that’s over yonder on Cardiff Hill back of the widow’s.”

“I reckon maybe we’ll tackle the old tree over there on Cardiff Hill behind the widow’s.”

“I reckon that’ll be a good one. But won’t the widow take it away from us, Tom? It’s on her land.”

“She take it away! Maybe she’d like to try it once. Whoever finds one of these hid treasures, it belongs to him. It don’t make any difference whose land it’s on.”

That was satisfactory. The work went on. By and by Huck said:

That was good enough. The work continued. After a while, Huck said:

“Blame it, we must be in the wrong place again. What do you think?”

“It is mighty curious, Huck. I don’t understand it. Sometimes witches interfere. I reckon maybe that’s what’s the trouble now.”

“It’s mighty strange, Huck. I don’t understand it. Sometimes witches interfere. I reckon maybe that’s what’s causing the trouble now.”

“Shucks! Witches ain’t got no power in the daytime.”

“Well, that’s so. I didn’t think of that. Oh, I know what the matter is! What a blamed lot of fools we are! You got to find out where the shadow of the limb falls at midnight, and that’s where you dig!”

“Well, that’s true. I didn’t think of that. Oh, I know what the problem is! What a blamed bunch of fools we are! You got to find out where the branch’s shadow falls at midnight, and that’s where you dig!”

“Then consound it, we’ve fooled away all this work for nothing. Now hang it all, we got to come back in the night. It’s an awful long way. Can you get out?”

“Then, darn it, we’ve wasted all this work for nothing. Now hang it all, we got to come back at night. It’s an awfully long way. Can you get out?”

“I bet I will. We’ve got to do it tonight, too, because if somebody sees these holes they’ll know in a minute what’s here and they’ll go for it.”

“I bet I will. We’ve got to do it tonight, too. That’s because if somebody sees these holes, they’ll immediately know what’s here and go after it.”

“Well, I’ll come around and maow tonight.”

“Well, I’ll come around and meow tonight.”

“All right. Let’s hide the tools in the bushes.”

The boys were there that night, about the appointed time. They sat in the shadow waiting. It was a lonely place, and an hour made solemn by old traditions. Spirits whispered in the rustling leaves, ghosts lurked in the murky nooks, the deep baying of a hound floated up out of the distance, an owl answered with his sepulchral note. The boys were subdued by these solemnities, and talked little. By and by they judged that twelve had come; they marked where the shadow fell, and began to dig. Their hopes commenced to rise. Their interest grew stronger, and their industry kept pace with it. The hole deepened and still deepened, but every time their hearts jumped to hear the pick strike upon something, they only suffered a new disappointment. It was only a stone or a chunk. At last Tom said:

The boys were there that night, around the agreed time. They sat in the shadows, waiting. It was a lonely place, and old traditions made the hour feel solemn. Spirits whispered in the rustling leaves. Ghosts lurked in the dark corners. The deep howling of a hound drifted up from the distance. An owl answered with a ghostly hoot. These eerie sounds and shadows hushed the boys, and they hardly spoke. After a while, they decided it must be midnight. They marked where the shadow fell and began to dig. Their hopes began to rise. Their excitement grew, and they worked harder as it did. The hole grew deeper and deeper. But every time their hearts leaped at the sound of the pick hitting something, they were disappointed again. It was only a stone or a piece of wood. At last Tom said:

“It ain’t any use, Huck, we’re wrong again.”

“It ain’t any use, Huck. We’re wrong again.”

“Well, but we can’t be wrong. We spotted the shadder to a dot.”

“Well, but we can’t be wrong. We spotted the shadow to a dot.”

“I know it, but then there’s another thing.”

“I know, but there’s something else.”

“What’s that?”

“Why, we only guessed at the time. Like enough it was too late or too early.”

“Why, we only guessed what time it was. Most likely it was too late or too early.”

Huck dropped his shovel.

“That’s it,” said he. “That’s the very trouble. We got to give this one up. We can’t ever tell the right time, and besides this kind of thing’s too awful, here this time of night with witches and ghosts a-fluttering around so. I feel as if something’s behind me all the time; and I’m afeard to turn around, becuz maybe there’s others in front a-waiting for a chance. I been creeping all over, ever since I got here.”

“That’s it,” he said. “That’s the very trouble. We got to give this one up. We can’t ever tell the right time. And besides, this kind of thing’s too scary, here this time of night with witches and ghosts fluttering around. I feel as if something’s behind me all the time. And I’m afraid to turn around, because maybe there’s others in front waiting for a chance. I been getting chills all over, ever since I got here.”

“Well, I’ve been pretty much so, too, Huck. They most always put in a dead man when they bury a treasure under a tree, to look out for it.”

“Well, I’ve been pretty much that way too, Huck. When they bury treasure under a tree, they most always put a dead man in to guard the treasure.”

“Lordy!”

“Yes, they do. I’ve always heard that.”

“Tom, I don’t like to fool around much where there’s dead people. A body’s bound to get into trouble with ’em, sure.”

“Tom, I don’t like to fool around much where there’s dead people. A body’s bound to get into trouble with them, sure.”

“I don’t like to stir ’em up, either. S’pose this one here was to stick his skull out and say something!”

“I don’t like to stir them up, either. Suppose this one here was to stick his skull out and say something!”

“Don’t Tom! It’s awful.”

“Don’t, Tom! It’s awful.”

“Well, it just is. Huck, I don’t feel comfortable a bit.”

“Well, it just is. Huck, I don’t feel comfortable at all.”

“Say, Tom, let’s give this place up, and try somewheres else.”

“Say, Tom, let’s give up on this place and try somewhere else.”

“All right, I reckon we better.”

“What’ll it be?”

“What will it be?”

Tom considered awhile; and then said:

Tom thought for a while, then said:

“The ha’nted house. That’s it!”

“The haunted house. That’s it!”

“Blame it, I don’t like ha’nted houses, Tom. Why, they’re a dern sight worse’n dead people. Dead people might talk, maybe, but they don’t come sliding around in a shroud, when you ain’t noticing, and peep over your shoulder all of a sudden and grit their teeth, the way a ghost does. I couldn’t stand such a thing as that, Tom—nobody could.”

“Blame it, I don’t like haunted houses, Tom. Why, they’re a darn sight worse than dead people. Dead people might talk, maybe, but they don’t slide around in burial cloths when you ain’t noticing. They don’t suddenly peek over your shoulder and grind their teeth the way a ghost does. I couldn’t stand such a thing as that, Tom. Nobody could.”

“Yes, but, Huck, ghosts don’t travel around only at night. They won’t hender us from digging there in the daytime.”

“Yes, but, Huck, ghosts don’t travel around only at night. They won’t hinder us from digging there in the daytime.”

“Well, that’s so. But you know mighty well people don’t go about that ha’nted house in the day nor the night.”

“Well, that’s true. But you know mighty well people don’t go near that haunted house, day or night.”

“Well, that’s mostly because they don’t like to go where a man’s been murdered, anyway—but nothing’s ever been seen around that house except in the night—just some blue lights slipping by the windows—no regular ghosts.”

“Well, that’s mostly because they don’t like to go where a man’s been murdered, anyway. But nothing’s ever been seen around that house except at night. Just some blue lights slipping past the windows, no actual ghosts.”

“Well, where you see one of them blue lights flickering around, Tom, you can bet there’s a ghost mighty close behind it. It stands to reason. Becuz you know that they don’t anybody but ghosts use ’em.”

“Well, Tom, where you see one of them blue lights flickering around, you can bet there’s a ghost mighty close behind it. It stands to reason. Because you know that they don’t anybody but ghosts use them.”

“Yes, that’s so. But anyway they don’t come around in the daytime, so what’s the use of our being afeard?”

“Yes, that’s true. But anyway, they don’t come around in the daytime. So what’s the use of us being afraid?”

“Well, all right. We’ll tackle the ha’nted house if you say so—but I reckon it’s taking chances.”

“Well, all right. We’ll tackle the haunted house if you say so. But I reckon it’s taking chances.”

They had started down the hill by this time. There in the middle of the moonlit valley below them stood the “ha’nted” house, utterly isolated, its fences gone long ago, rank weeds smothering the very doorsteps, the chimney crumbled to ruin, the window-sashes vacant, a corner of the roof caved in. The boys gazed awhile, half expecting to see a blue light flit past a window; then talking in a low tone, as befitted the time and the circumstances, they struck far off to the right, to give the haunted house a wide berth, and took their way homeward through the woods that adorned the rearward side of Cardiff Hill.

By this time, they had started down the hill. Below them, in the middle of the moonlit valley, stood the “haunted” house, completely alone. Its fences had disappeared long ago, and thick weeds choked even the doorsteps. The chimney had crumbled, the window frames were empty, and one corner of the roof had caved in. The boys stared for a while, half expecting to see a blue light flit past a window. Then they spoke quietly, as suited the hour and the situation, and headed far to the right. They wanted to stay well away from the haunted house. They headed home through the woods that covered the back of Cardiff Hill.