, and he had silently observed that worthy's
manoeuvres through the bushes. Jake crept along the edge of the
drift pile to its further end, intending to toss the boots into the
river as soon as he should be sufficiently far from Sam for safety. As
he went, however, his awakened caution grew upon him. He reflected
that Sam would suspect him when he should miss his boots the next
morning, and might see fit to call him to account for their absence.
He intended, in that case, stoutly to deny all knowledge of the
affair, but he could not tell in advance precisely how persistent
Sam's suspicion might be, and it seemed to him better to leave
himself a "hole to crawl through," as he phrased it, if the necessity
should come. He resolved, therefore, that instead of throwing the
boots away, he would hide them so securely that no one else could
possibly find them. "Then," thought he, "if the worst comes to the
worst I can find 'em, and still stick to it that I didn't take 'em
away." An opening in the pile of drift-wood just at hand, was
suggestive, and Jake crept into it passing under a great log that lay
lengthwise just over the entrance. The passage way through the drift
was a very narrow one but it did not come to an end at the end of the
great log as Jake had expected, and he felt his way further. The
passage turned and twisted about, but he went on, dark as it was.
After a while he found himself in a sort of chamber under one of the
great trees, and inside the line of its great twisted roots. He did
not know where he was, however, but Sam or Tom or Joe could have told
him all about the place.

[Footnote 1: The Big Brother, published by G. P. Putnam's Sons. A
friend suggests that many northern readers may doubt the existence of
such trees as those which I have described briefly here, and more
fully in "The Big Brother." I think it right to explain, therefore,
that I have seen many such trees with roots exposed in the manner
described, in the west and south, and my favorite playing place as a
boy was under precisely such a tree. Of course no tree could stand the
sudden removal of ten or fifteen feet of earth from beneath it; but
the trees described have gradually undergone this process, and the
roots have struck constantly deeper, their exposed parts gradually
changing from roots, in the proper sense, to something like a
downward-branching tree trunk.]

[Illustration: GETTING EVEN IN THE DARK.]

Here his journey seemed to be