WELL, all day we went through the humbug of watching
one another, and it was pretty sickly business
for two of us and hard to act out, I can tell you.
About night we landed at one of them little Missouri
towns high up toward Iowa, and had supper at the tavern,
and got a room upstairs with a cot and a double bed in it,
but I dumped my bag under a deal table in the dark hall
while we was moving along it to bed, single file, me last,
and the landlord in the lead with a tallow candle.
We had up a lot of whisky, and went to playing high-low-jack
for dimes, and as soon as the whisky begun to take hold
of Bud we stopped drinking, but we didn't let him stop.
We loaded him till he fell out of his chair and laid
"We was ready for business now. I said we better pull
our boots off, and his'n too, and not make any noise,
then we could pull him and haul him around and ransack
him without any trouble. So we done it. I set my
boots and Bud's side by side, where they'd be handy.
Then we stripped him and searched his seams and his
pockets and his socks and the inside of his boots,
and everything, and searched his bundle. Never found
any di'monds. We found the screwdriver, and Hal says,
'What do you reckon he wanted with that?' I said I
didn't know; but when he wasn't looking I hooked it.
At last Hal he looked beat and discouraged, and said we'd
got to give it up. That was what I was waiting for.
"'There's one place we hain't searched.'
"'What place is that?' he says.
"'By gracious, I never thought of that! NOW we're on
the homestretch, to a dead moral certainty. How'll we manage?'
"'Well,' I says, 'just stay by him till I turn out and hunt
up a drug store, and I reckon I'll fetch something that'll
make them di'monds tired of the company they're keeping.'
"He said that's the ticket, and with him looking straight
at me I slid myself into Bud's boots instead of my own,
and he never noticed. They was just a shade large for me,
but that was considerable better than being too small.
I got my bag as I went a-groping through the hall,
and in about a minute I was out the back way and stretching
up the river road at a five-mile gait.
"And not feeling so very bad, neither--walking on di'monds
don't have no such effect. When I had gone fifteen
minutes I says to myself, there's more'n a mile behind me,
and everything quiet. Another five minutes and I says
there's considerable more land behind me now, and there's
a man back there that's begun to wonder what's the trouble.
Another five and I says to myself he's getting real
uneasy--he's walking the floor now. Another five,
and I says to myself, there's two mile and a half behind me,
and he's AWFUL uneasy--beginning to cuss, I reckon.
Pretty soon I says to myself, forty minutes gone--he
KNOWS there's something up! Fifty minutes--the truth's
a-busting on him now! he is reckoning I found the di'monds
whilst we was searching, and shoved them in my pocket and
never let on--yes, and he's starting out to hunt for me.
He'll hunt for new tracks in the dust, and they'll as likely
send him down the river as up.
"Just then I see a man coming down on a mule, and before I
thought I jumped into the bush. It was stupid! When he got
abreast he stopped and waited a little for me to come out;
then he rode on again. But I didn't feel gay any more.
I says to myself I've botched my chances by that;
I surely have, if he meets up with Hal Clayton.
"Well, about three in the morning I fetched Elexandria
and see this stern-wheeler laying there, and was very glad,
because I felt perfectly safe, now, you know. It was
just daybreak. I went aboard and got this stateroom and put
on these clothes and went up in the pilot-house--to watch,
though I didn't reckon there was any need of it.
I set there and played with my di'monds and waited and
waited for the boat to start, but she didn't. You see,
they was mending her machinery, but I didn't know anything
about it, not being very much used to steamboats.
"Well, to cut the tale short, we never left there till
plumb noon; and long before that I was hid in this stateroom;
for before breakfast I see a man coming, away off, that had
a gait like Hal Clayton's, and it made me just sick.
I says to myself, if he finds out I'm aboard this boat,
he's got me like a rat in a trap. All he's got to do is
to have me watched, and wait--wait till I slip ashore,
thinking he is a thousand miles away, then slip after
me and dog me to a good place and make me give up
the di'monds, and then he'll--oh, I know what he'll
do! Ain't it awful--awful! And now to think the OTHER
one's aboard, too! Oh, ain't it hard luck, boys--ain't it
hard! But you'll help save me, WON'T you?--oh, boys,
be good to a poor devil that's being hunted to death,
and save me--I'll worship the very ground you walk on!"
We turned in and soothed him down and told him we would
plan for him and help him, and he needn't be so afeard;
and so by and by he got to feeling kind of comfortable again,
and unscrewed his heelplates and held up his di'monds
this way and that, admiring them and loving them;
and when the light struck into them they WAS beautiful,
sure; why, they seemed to kind of bust, and snap fire
out all around. But all the same I judged he was a fool.
If I had been him I would a handed the di'monds to them
pals and got them to go ashore and leave me alone.
But he was made different. He said it was a whole fortune
and he couldn't bear the idea.
Twice we stopped to fix the machinery and laid a good while,
once in the night; but it wasn't dark enough, and he was
afeard to skip. But the third time we had to fix it there
was a better chance. We laid up at a country woodyard
about forty mile above Uncle Silas's place a little after
one at night, and it was thickening up and going to storm.
So Jake he laid for a chance to slide. We begun to take
in wood. Pretty soon the rain come a-drenching down,
and the wind blowed hard. Of course every boat-hand fixed
a gunny sack and put it on like a bonnet, the way they
do when they are toting wood, and we got one for Jake,
and he slipped down aft with his hand-bag and come
tramping forrard just like the rest, and walked ashore
with them, and when we see him pass out of the light
of the torch-basket and get swallowed up in the dark,
we got our breath again and just felt grateful and splendid.
But it wasn't for long. Somebody told, I reckon;
for in about eight or ten minutes them two pals come
tearing forrard as tight as they could jump and darted
ashore and was gone. We waited plumb till dawn for them
to come back, and kept hoping they would, but they never did.
We was awful sorry and low-spirited. All the hope we had
was that Jake had got such a start that they couldn't get
on his track, and he would get to his brother's and hide
there and be safe.
He was going to take the river road, and told us to find
out if Brace and Jubiter was to home and no strangers there,
and then slip out about sundown and tell him. Said he
would wait for us in a little bunch of sycamores right back
of Tom's uncle Silas's tobacker field on the river road,
a lonesome place.
We set and talked a long time about his chances, and Tom
said he was all right if the pals struck up the river
instead of down, but it wasn't likely, because maybe
they knowed where he was from; more likely they would
go right, and dog him all day, him not suspecting,
and kill him when it come dark, and take the boots.
So we was pretty sorrowful.