Chapter 9 Seeking Buried Treasure Tom was a hero, the envy of young and old alike.
His name was even in the St.
Petersburg town paper.
But as happy as Tom's days now were, his nights were filled with fear.
Injun Joe lurked in all of his dreams, always with doom in his eye.
Poor Huck felt as afraid as Tom and was desperately worried that Injun Joe might discover his own role and come after him too.
Tom's sense of right and wrong had made him secretly visit Muff Potter's lawyer and tell him what really happened.
But by doing so, Tom also had betrayed a blood oath, the most sacred of all oaths.
After that, Huck found it hard to have much faith in anything anymore.
After the trial's dramatic end, rewards had been offered for Injun Joe's capture.
The country had been searched high and low, but he was nowhere to be found.
As the days drifted on without any sign of Injun Joe, Tom felt less and less scared.
Soon, he had an idea to dig for hidden treasure.
Tom now sought out Huck, who he knew was always willing to take part in any plan.
That seemed exciting.
Huck jumped at Tom's offer, but after thinking a moment, he asked, "'Where'll we dig, Tom?'
"'Almost anywhere,' Tom replied.
"'Why, treasure hid all around?'
No, indeed, it ain't.
It's hid in mighty particular places, Huck.
Sometimes on the islands.
Sometimes in rotten chests under the limb of an old dead tree, just where the shadow falls at midnight.
Mostly it's hid under the floor in haunted houses.
Who hides it?
Robbers, of course.
Who'd you reckon?
Sunday school teachers?
If I was a robber, I wouldn't hide it.
I'd spend it and have a good time.
So would I. But robbers don't do it that way.
They always hide it and leave it there.
They don't come after it anymore.
They think they will, but they generally forget where they put the treasure map with the marks to show them just where to dig, or sometimes they die.
So the treasure just sits there a long time and gets rusty.
By and by, somebody finds an old yellow paper map that tells how to find the marks.
Have you got one of them maps, Tom?
Nope.
Well, then, how are you going to find them marks?
Forget the marks.
They're always buried under a haunted house or on an island or under a dead tree.
That's got one limb sticking out.
There's an old haunted house up around Cardiff Hill, and there's lots of dead limb trees there, too.
There's an awful lot of dead trees around these parts, Tom.
How are you going to know which one to go for?
Go for all of them.
Why, Tom, it'll take all summer.
Well, what of it?
Suppose you find a brass pot with a hundred dollars in it, all rusty and gray, or a rotten chest full of diamonds.
How's that for a summer's work?
Huck's eyes glowed.
That was all the convincing he needed.
Suppose we tackle that old, dead limb tree way up on Cardiff Hill on the other side of the creek?
Huck suggested.
I'm agreed.
So the boys got a pick and shovel and set out on their trek.
When they finally arrived at the old dead tree, hot and panting, they sat down in the shade of a neighboring elm to rest and chew gum.
I like this, said Tom.
So do I, Huck agreed.
Say, Huck, if we find a treasure here, what are you going to do with your share?
Well, I'll have a pie and a soda every day, and I'll go to every circus that comes along.
Ain't you going to save any of it?
Save it?
What for?
Well, what if you want to get married?
Married?
That's right.
Tom, you, you ain't in your right mind.
Wait, you'll see.
Tom, that's about the most foolish thing you could do.
Look at my mom, Pa.
They used to fight all the time.
I remember mighty well.
The girl I'm gonna marry won't fight.
You better think this out a while.
They all like to fight.
What's the name of this gal?
I'll tell you sometime.
Not now.
All right.
That'll do.
Only if you get married, I'll be more lonesome than ever.
No, you won't.
You'll come and live with me.
Now, let's start digging.
They worked and sweated for half an hour.
No result.
They toiled for another half hour.
Still nothing.
They always bury treasure as deep as this, Huck asked.
Not generally.
I reckon we haven't got the right place.
So they found a new spot and began digging again.
Finally, Huck leaned on his shovel, swabbed the beaded drops of sweat from his brow with his sleeve and said Heck Tom, we must be in the wrong place again.
What do you think?
It is mighty curious.
I reckon there's a witch making trouble for us, because witches like to keep the gold hid for themselves.
Shucks, witches ain't got no power in the daytime.
Well, that's so, Tom admitted.
I didn't think of that.
Oh, I know what's wrong fools we are.
You got to find out where the shadow of the dead limb tree falls, exactly at the stroke of midnight by the light of the moon, and then that's where you dig confound it.
Huck moaned we did all this work for nothing.
We've got to do it tonight.
That's all.
Tom responded.
Can you get out?
Huck asked i bet i will.
Well, I'll come around and meow like a cat tonight.
All right, Tom said.
Let's hide the tools in the bushes.
Late that night the two boys sneaked back to the old dead tree and sat in shadow waiting for midnight.
It was a lonely place where spirits whispered in the rustling leaves and ghosts lurked in the murky nooks.
The deep baying of a hound floated out of the distance and an owl answered with a low hoot.
Finally, Tom and Huck judged that the hour of twelve had come at last.
They marked the spot where the shadow fell and began to dig.
The holes grew deeper and deeper, but every time they heard their picks strike something, it turned out to be just a stone.
It ain't any use, Tom said.
Huck, we're wrong again.
But we can't be wrong.
We marked the shadow exact.
Well, there's one other thing, Tom said slowly.
What's that?
We only guessed at the time because we don't have a watch.
It must have been too late or too early.
Huck dropped his shovel.
That's it, he said.
We got to give up on this one.
We'll never be able to tell the right time.
Besides, this time of night's too awful. full of witches and ghosts a-fluttering around us.
I feel as if something's behind me most all the time.
I've been feeling pretty much the same way, Tom confessed.
Say, Tom, let's give this place up and try somewhere else.
I reckon we better.
What'll it be?
Tom considered a while and then said, the haunted house, that's it.
Dang it, Tom, I don't like haunted houses.
There's liable to be twice as many ghosts in there.
Yes, but, Huck, ghosts travel only at night.
They won't stop us digging there in the daytime.
Well, that's so, Huck had to agree.
But you know mighty well people don't go about that haunted house day or night.
That's mostly they don't like to go where a man's been killed.
Anyway, nothing's ever been seen around that house except at night.
Just some blue lights slipping by the windows.
No regular ghosts.
Well Tom, wherever you see them blue lights flickering, you can bet there's a ghost mighty close by.
It stands to reason.
That's so, Tom agreed.
But ghosts don't come around in the daytime, so what's the use of being all afraid?
Well, all right, we'll tackle the haunted house if you say so, but I reckon it's taking chances.
By this time, they had already started walking down the hill.
There, in the middle of the moonlit valley, below stood the haunted house with its fences, long gone, and thick weeds smothering the doorsteps.
The chimney had fallen down, the window sashes were torn to pieces and even a corner of the roof had caved in.
The boys gazed at the house for a while, half expecting to see a blue light flit past the windows at any moment.
Then, talking in a low tone, they made a sharp right turn to get as far away as they could from it and took their way homeward through the woods that covered the back slope of Cardiff Hill.
