to watch but the texas and the pilot-house; and do you reckon anybody's going to resk his life for a texas and a pilot-house such a night as this, when it's likely to break up and wash off down the river any minute?”  Jim couldn't say nothing to that, so he didn't try. “And besides,” I says, “we might borrow something worth having out of the captain's stateroom.  Seegars, I bet you--and cost five cents apiece, solid cash.  Steamboat captains is always rich, and get sixty dollars a month, and _they_ don't care a cent what a thing costs, you know, long as they want it.  Stick a candle in your pocket; I can't rest, Jim, till we give her a rummaging.  Do you reckon Tom Sawyer would ever go by this thing?  Not for pie, he wouldn't. He'd call it an adventure--that's what he'd call it; and he'd land on that wreck if it was his last act.  And wouldn't he throw style into it?--wouldn't he spread himself, nor nothing?  Why, you'd think it was Christopher C'lumbus discovering Kingdom-Come.  I wish Tom Sawyer _was_ here.” Jim he grumbled a little, but give in.  He said we mustn't talk any more than we could help, and then talk mighty low.  The lightning showed us the wreck again just in time, and we fetched the stabboard derrick, and made fast there. The deck was high out here.  We went sneaking down the slope of it to labboard, in the dark, towards the texas, feeling our way slow with our feet, and spreading our hands out to fend off the guys, for it was so dark we couldn't see no sign of them.  Pretty soon we struck the forward end of the skylight, and clumb on to it; and the next step fetched us in front of the captain's door, which was open, and by Jimminy, away down through the texas-hall we see a light! and all in the same second we seem to hear low voices in yonder! Jim whispered and said he was feeling powerful sick, and told me to come along.  I says, all right, and was going to start for the raft; but just then I heard a voice wail out and say: “Oh, please don't