t still had them on after it started to go
ha'nting around, and if that ain't proof that them blatherskites didn't
get the boots, I'd like to know what you'd CALL proof."

Think of that now. I never see such a head as that boy had. Why, I had
eyes and I could see things, but they never meant nothing to me. But Tom
Sawyer was different. When Tom Sawyer seen a thing it just got up on its
hind legs and TALKED to him--told him everything it knowed. I never see
such a head.

"Tom Sawyer," I says, "I'll say it again as I've said it a many a time
before: I ain't fitten to black your boots. But that's all right--that's
neither here nor there. God Almighty made us all, and some He gives eyes
that's blind, and some He gives eyes that can see, and I reckon it ain't
none of our lookout what He done it for; it's all right, or He'd 'a'
fixed it some other way. Go on--I see plenty plain enough, now, that
them thieves didn't get way with the di'monds. Why didn't they, do you
reckon?"

"Because they got chased away by them other two men before they could
pull the boots off of the corpse."

"That's so! I see it now. But looky here, Tom, why ain't we to go and
tell about it?"

"Oh, shucks, Huck Finn, can't you see? Look at it. What's a-going to
happen? There's going to be an inquest in the morning. Them two men will
tell how they heard the yells and rushed there just in time to not save
the stranger. Then the jury'll twaddle and twaddle and twaddle, and
finally they'll fetch in a verdict that he got shot or stuck or busted
over the head with something, and come to his death by the inspiration
of God. And after they've buried him they'll auction off his things for
to pay the expenses, and then's OUR chance." "How, Tom?"

"Buy the boots for two dollars!"

Well, it 'most took my breath.

"My land! Why, Tom, WE'LL get the di'monds!"

"You bet. Some day there'll be a big reward offered for them--a thousand
dollars, sure. That's our money! Now we'll trot in and see the folks.
And mind you we don't know anything about any murder, or any di'monds,
or any thieves--don't you forget that."

I had to sigh a little over the way he had got it fixed. I'd 'a' SOLD
them di'monds--yes, sir--for twelve thousand dollars; but I didn't say
anything. It wouldn't done any good. I says:

"But what are we going to tell your aunt Sally has made us so long
getting down here from the village, Tom?"

"Oh, I'll leave that to you," he says. "I reckon you