know. I reckon so. I seen him spading up some ground along
about an hour ago, just before sundown--him and the parson. Said he
guessed he wouldn't go to-night, but we could have his dog if we wanted
him."

"Too tired, I reckon."

"Yes--works so hard!"

"Oh, you bet!"

They cackled at that, and went on by. Tom said we better jump out and
tag along after them, because they was going our way and it wouldn't be
comfortable to run across the ghost all by ourselves. So we done it, and
got home all right.

That night was the second of September--a Saturday. I sha'n't ever forget
it. You'll see why, pretty soon.

CHAPTER VI. PLANS TO SECURE THE DIAMONDS

WE tramped along behind Jim and Lem till we come to the back stile where
old Jim's cabin was that he was captivated in, the time we set him free,
and here come the dogs piling around us to say howdy, and there was the
lights of the house, too; so we warn't afeard any more, and was going to
climb over, but Tom says:

"Hold on; set down here a minute. By George!"

"What's the matter?" says I.

"Matter enough!" he says. "Wasn't you expecting we would be the first
to tell the family who it is that's been killed yonder in the sycamores,
and all about them rapscallions that done it, and about the di'monds
they've smouched off of the corpse, and paint it up fine, and have the
glory of being the ones that knows a lot more about it than anybody
else?"

"Why, of course. It wouldn't be you, Tom Sawyer, if you was to let
such a chance go by. I reckon it ain't going to suffer none for lack of
paint," I says, "when you start in to scollop the facts."

"Well, now," he says, perfectly ca'm, "what would you say if I was to
tell you I ain't going to start in at all?"

I was astonished to hear him talk so. I says:

"I'd say it's a lie. You ain't in earnest, Tom Sawyer?"

"You'll soon see. Was the ghost barefooted?"

"No, it wasn't. What of it?"

"You wait--I'll show you what. Did it have its boots on?"

"Yes. I seen them plain."

"Swear it?"

"Yes, I swear it."

"So do I. Now do you know what that means?"

"No. What does it mean?"

"Means that them thieves DIDN'T GET THE DI'MONDS."

"Jimminy! What makes you think that?"

"I don't only think it, I know it. Didn't the breeches and goggles
and whiskers and hand-bag and every blessed thing turn to ghost-stuff?
Everything it had on turned, didn't it? It shows that the reason its
boots turned too was because i