sunday painters

sunday painters

Item No. comdagen-6602032538174426597
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nation can he _do_ with it?” “_Do_ with it?  He can hide it in his bed, can't he?”  That's what they all do; and _he's_ got to, too.  Huck, you don't ever seem to want to do anything that's regular; you want to be starting something fresh all the time. S'pose he _don't_ do nothing with it? ain't it there in his bed, for a clew, after he's gone? and don't you reckon they'll want clews?  Of course they will.  And you wouldn't leave them any?  That would be a _pretty_ howdy-do, _wouldn't_ it!  I

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 I reckon that's a considerble sight better 'n killin' of him.  I'm unfavorable to killin' a man as long as you can git aroun' it; it ain't good sense, it ain't good morals.  Ain't I right?” “Yes, I reck'n you are.  But s'pose she _don't_ break up and wash off?” “Well, we can wait the two hours anyway and see, can't we?” “All right, then; come along.” So they started, and I lit out, all in a cold sweat, and scrambled forward. It was dark as pitch there; but I said, in a kind of a coarse whisper, “Jim!” and he answered up, right at my elbow, with a sort of a moan, and I says: “Quick, Jim, it ain't no time for fooling around and moaning; there's a gang of murderers in yonder, and if we don't hunt up their boat and set her drifting down the river so these fellows can't get away from the wreck there's one of 'em going to be in a bad fix.  But if we find their boat we can put _all_ of 'em in a bad fix--for the sheriff 'll get 'em. Quick--hurry!  I'll hunt the labboard side, you hunt the stabboard. You start at the raft, and--” “Oh, my lordy, lordy!  _raf'_?  Dey ain' no raf' no mo'; she done broke loose en gone I--en here we is!” CHAPTER XIII. WELL, I catched my breath and most fainted.  Shut up on a wreck with such a gang as that!  But it warn't no time to be sentimentering.  We'd _got_ to find that boat now--had to have it for ourselves.  So we went a-quaking and shaking down the stabboard side, and slow work it was, too--seemed a week before we got to the stern.  No sign of a boat.  Jim said he didn't believe he could go any further--so scared he hadn't hardly any strength left, he said.  But I said, come on, if we get left on this wreck we are in a fix, sure.  So on we prowled again.  We struck for the stern of the texas, and found it, and then scrabbled along forwards on the skylight, hanging on from shutter to shutter, for the edge of the skylight was in the water.  When we got pretty close to the cross-hall door there was the skiff, sure enough!  I cou