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1Tom dodged hither and thither through lanes until he was well out of the track of returning scholars, and then fell into
2a moody jog. He crossed a small "branch" two or three times, because of a prevailing juvenile superstition that to cross
3water baffled pursuit. Half an hour later he was disappearing behind the Douglas mansion on the summit of Cardiff Hill,
4and the school-house was hardly distinguishable away off in the valley behind him. He entered a dense wood, picked his
5pathless way to the centre of it, and sat down on a mossy spot under a spreading oak. There was not even a zephyr
6stirring; the dead noonday heat had even stilled the songs of the birds; nature lay in a trance that was broken by no
7sound but the occasional far-off hammering of a wood-pecker, and this seemed to render the pervading silence and sense
8of loneliness the more profound. The boy's soul was steeped in melancholy; his feelings were in happy accord with his
9surroundings. He sat long with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands, meditating. It seemed to him that life
10was but a trouble, at best, and he more than half envied Jimmy Hodges, so lately released; it must be very peaceful, he
11thought, to lie and slumber and dream forever and ever, with the wind whispering through the trees and caressing the
12grass and the flowers over the grave, and nothing to bother and grieve about, ever any more. If he only had a clean
13Sunday-school record he could be willing to go, and be done with it all. Now as to this girl. What had he done? Nothing.
14He had meant the best in the world, and been treated like a dog--like a very dog. She would be sorry some day--maybe
15when it was too late. Ah, if he could only die temporarily! But the elastic heart of youth cannot be compressed into one
16constrained shape long at a time. Tom presently began to drift insensibly back into the concerns of this life again.
17What if he turned his back, now, and disappeared mysteriously? What if he went away--ever so far away, into unknown
18countries beyond the seas--and never came back any more! How would she feel then! The idea of being a clown recurred to
19him now, only to fill him with disgust. For frivolity and jokes and spotted tights were an offense, when they intruded
20themselves upon a spirit that was exalted into the vague august realm of the romantic. No, he would be a soldier, and
21return after long years, all war-worn and illustrious. No--better still, he would join the Indians, and hunt buffaloes
22and go on the warpath in the mountain ranges and the trackless great plains of the Far West, and away in the future come
23back a great chief, bristling with feathers, hideous with paint, and prance into Sunday-school, some drowsy summer
24morning, with a blood-curdling war-whoop, and sear the eyeballs of all his companions with unappeasable envy. But no,
25there was something gaudier even than this. He would be a pirate! That was it! now his future lay plain before him, and
26glowing with unimaginable splendor. How his name would fill the world, and make people shudder! How gloriously he would
27go plowing the dancing seas, in his long, low, black-hulled racer, the Spirit of the Storm, with his grisly flag flying
28at the fore! And at the zenith of his fame, how he would suddenly appear at the old village and stalk into church, brown
29and weather-beaten, in his black velvet doublet and trunks, his great jack-boots, his crimson sash, his belt bristling
30with horse-pistols, his crime-rusted cutlass at his side, his slouch hat with waving plumes, his black flag unfurled,
31with the skull and crossbones on it, and hear with swelling ecstasy the whisperings, "It's Tom Sawyer the Pirate!--the
32Black Avenger of the Spanish Main!" Yes, it was settled; his career was determined. He would run away from home and
33enter upon it. He would start the very next morning. Therefore he must now begin to get ready. He would collect his
34resources together. He went to a rotten log near at hand and began to dig under one end of it with his Barlow knife. He
35soon struck wood that sounded hollow. He put his hand there and uttered this incantation impressively: "What hasn't come
36here, come! What's here, stay here!" Then he scraped away the dirt, and exposed a pine shingle. He took it up and
37disclosed a shapely little treasure-house whose bottom and sides were of shingles. In it lay a marble. Tom's
38astonishment was boundless! He scratched his head with a perplexed air, and said: "Well, that beats anything!" Then he
39tossed the marble away pettishly, and stood cogitating. The truth was, that a superstition of his had failed, here,
40which he and all his comrades had always looked upon as infallible. If you buried a marble with certain necessary
41incantations, and left it alone a fortnight, and then opened the place with the incantation he had just used, you would
42find that all the marbles you had ever lost had gathered themselves together there, meantime, no matter how widely they
43had been separated. But now, this thing had actually and unquestionably failed. Tom's whole structure of faith was
44shaken to its foundations. He had many a time heard of this thing succeeding but never of its failing before. It did not
45occur to him that he had tried it several times before, himself, but could never find the hiding-places afterward. He
46puzzled over the matter some time, and finally decided that some witch had interfered and broken the charm. He thought
47he would satisfy himself on that point; so he searched around till he found a small sandy spot with a little
48funnel-shaped depression in it. He laid himself down and put his mouth close to this depression and called--
49"Doodle-bug, doodle-bug, tell me what I want to know! Doodle-bug, doodle-bug, tell me what I want to know!" The sand
50began to work, and presently a small black bug appeared for a second and then darted under again in a fright. "He dasn't
51tell! So it was a witch that done it. I just knowed it." He well knew the futility of trying to contend against witches,
52so he gave up discouraged. But it occurred to him that he might as well have the marble he had just thrown away, and
53therefore he went and made a patient search for it. But he could not find it. Now he went back to his treasure-house and
54carefully placed himself just as he had been standing when he tossed the marble away; then he took another marble from
55his pocket and tossed it in the same way, saying: "Brother, go find your brother!" He watched where it stopped, and went
56there and looked. But it must have fallen short or gone too far; so he tried twice more. The last repetition was
57successful. The two marbles lay within a foot of each other. Just here the blast of a toy tin trumpet came faintly down
58the green aisles of the forest. Tom flung off his jacket and trousers, turned a suspender into a belt, raked away some
59brush behind the rotten log, disclosing a rude bow and arrow, a lath sword and a tin trumpet, and in a moment had seized
60these things and bounded away, barelegged, with fluttering shirt. He presently halted under a great elm, blew an
61answering blast, and then began to tiptoe and look warily out, this way and that. He said cautiously--to an imaginary
62company: "Hold, my merry men! Keep hid till I blow." Now appeared Joe Harper, as airily clad and elaborately armed as
63Tom. Tom called: "Hold! Who comes here into Sherwood Forest without my pass?" "Guy of Guisborne wants no man's pass. Who
64art thou that--that--" "Dares to hold such language," said Tom, prompting--for they talked "by the book," from memory.
65"Who art thou that dares to hold such language?" "I, indeed! I am Robin Hood, as thy caitiff carcase soon shall know."
66"Then art thou indeed that famous outlaw? Right gladly will I dispute with thee the passes of the merry wood. Have at
67thee!" They took their lath swords, dumped their other traps on the ground, struck a fencing attitude, foot to foot, and
68began a grave, careful combat, "two up and two down." Presently Tom said: "Now, if you've got the hang, go it lively!"
69So they "went it lively," panting and perspiring with the work. By and by Tom shouted: "Fall! fall! Why don't you fall?"
70"I sha'n't! Why don't you fall yourself? You're getting the worst of it."
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