THEM awful words froze us solid. We couldn't move hand or
foot for as much as half a minute. Then we kind of come to,
and lifted the old man up and got him into his chair,
and Benny petted him and kissed him and tried to comfort him,
and poor old Aunt Sally she done the same; but, poor things,
they was so broke up and scared and knocked out of their
right minds that they didn't hardly know what they
was about. With Tom it was awful; it 'most petrified
him to think maybe he had got his uncle into a thousand
times more trouble than ever, and maybe it wouldn't ever
happened if he hadn't been so ambitious to get celebrated,
and let the corpse alone the way the others done.
But pretty soon he sort of come to himself again and says:
"Uncle Silas, don't you say another word like that.
It's dangerous, and there ain't a shadder of truth
Aunt Sally and Benny was thankful to hear him say that,
and they said the same; but the old man he wagged his head
sorrowful and hopeless, and the tears run down his face,
and he says;
"No--I done it; poor Jubiter, I done it!"
It was dreadful to hear him say it. Then he went on and
told about it, and said it happened the day me and Tom
come--along about sundown. He said Jubiter pestered him
and aggravated him till he was so mad he just sort of lost
his mind and grabbed up a stick and hit him over the head
with all his might, and Jubiter dropped in his tracks.
Then he was scared and sorry, and got down on his knees
and lifted his head up, and begged him to speak and say
he wasn't dead; and before long he come to, and when he
see who it was holding his head, he jumped like he was
'most scared to death, and cleared the fence and tore
into the woods, and was gone. So he hoped he wasn't
"But laws," he says, "it was only just fear that gave
him that last little spurt of strength, and of course it
soon played out and he laid down in the bush, and there
wasn't anybody to help him, and he died."
Then the old man cried and grieved, and said he was a murderer
and the mark of Cain was on him, and he had disgraced
his family and was going to be found out and hung.
But Tom said:
"No, you ain't going to be found out. You DIDN'T kill him.
ONE lick wouldn't kill him. Somebody else done it."
"Oh, yes," he says, "I done it--nobody else. Who else
had anything against him? Who else COULD have anything
He looked up kind of like he hoped some of us could mention
somebody that could have a grudge against that harmless
no-account, but of course it warn't no use--he HAD us;
we couldn't say a word. He noticed that, and he saddened
down again, and I never see a face so miserable and so
pitiful to see. Tom had a sudden idea, and says:
"But hold on!--somebody BURIED him. Now who--"
He shut off sudden. I knowed the reason. It give me the
cold shudders when he said them words, because right away
I remembered about us seeing Uncle Silas prowling around
with a long-handled shovel away in the night that night.
And I knowed Benny seen him, too, because she was talking
about it one day. The minute Tom shut off he changed
the subject and went to begging Uncle Silas to keep mum,
and the rest of us done the same, and said he MUST,
and said it wasn't his business to tell on himself, and if
he kept mum nobody would ever know; but if it was found
out and any harm come to him it would break the family's
hearts and kill them, and yet never do anybody any good.
So at last he promised. We was all of us more comfortable,
then, and went to work to cheer up the old man. We told
him all he'd got to do was to keep still, and it wouldn't
be long till the whole thing would blow over and be forgot.
We all said there wouldn't anybody ever suspect Uncle Silas,
nor ever dream of such a thing, he being so good and kind,
and having such a good character; and Tom says,
cordial and hearty, he says:
"Why, just look at it a minute; just consider. Here is
Uncle Silas, all these years a preacher--at his own expense;
all these years doing good with all his might and every
way he can think of--at his own expense, all the time;
always been loved by everybody, and respected; always been
peaceable and minding his own business, the very last man
in this whole deestrict to touch a person, and everybody
knows it. Suspect HIM? Why, it ain't any more possible than--"
"By authority of the State of Arkansaw, I arrest you
for the murder of Jubiter Dunlap!" shouts the sheriff
at the door.
It was awful. Aunt Sally and Benny flung themselves at
Uncle Silas, screaming and crying, and hugged him and hung
to him, and Aunt Sally said go away, she wouldn't ever
give him up, they shouldn't have him, and the niggers
they come crowding and crying to the door and--well, I
couldn't stand it; it was enough to break a person's heart;
so I got out.
They took him up to the little one-horse jail in the village,
and we all went along to tell him good-bye; and Tom was
feeling elegant, and says to me, "We'll have a most noble
good time and heaps of danger some dark night getting him
out of there, Huck, and it'll be talked about everywheres
and we will be celebrated;" but the old man busted
that scheme up the minute he whispered to him about it.
He said no, it was his duty to stand whatever the law
done to him, and he would stick to the jail plumb
through to the end, even if there warn't no door to it.
It disappointed Tom and graveled him a good deal, but he
had to put up with it.
But he felt responsible and bound to get his uncle Silas free;
and he told Aunt Sally, the last thing, not to worry,
because he was going to turn in and work night and day
and beat this game and fetch Uncle Silas out innocent;
and she was very loving to him and thanked him and said she
knowed he would do his very best. And she told us to help
Benny take care of the house and the children, and then we
had a good-bye cry all around and went back to the farm,
and left her there to live with the jailer's wife a month
till the trial in October.