Huckleberry Finn by Dave Mckay, Mark Twain (dark books to read TXT) 📖

lived there, and all about the English Wilkses, and so on; but I didn’t get very far before the doctor started to laugh; and Levi Bell, the lawyer, says: “Sit down, my boy; I wouldn’t try too hard if I was you. I think you ain’t one who has done much lying, it don’t seem to come easy; what you want is to exercise it more. You do it pretty rough.”

 

I didn’t think he was so right, but I was glad to be let off, anyway.

 

The doctor he started to say something, and turns and says: “If you’d been in town at first, Levi Bell -- “

 

The king broke in and reached out his hand, and says: “Why, is this my poor dead brother’s old friend that he’s wrote so often about?”

 

The lawyer and him shook hands, and the lawyer smiled and looked pleased, and they talked right along for a while, and then got to one side and talked low.

 

At last the lawyer speaks up and says: “That’ll fix it. I’ll take it and send it, along with your brother’s, and then they’ll know it’s all right.”

 

So they got some paper and a pen, and the king he sat down and turned his head to one side, and chewed his tongue, and wrote something; and then they give the pen to the duke -- and then for the first time the duke looked sick. But he took the pen and wrote.

 

 

So then the lawyer turns to the new old man and says: “You and your brother please write a line or two and sign your names.”

 

The old man wrote, but nobody couldn’t read it. The lawyer looked powerful surprised, and says: “Well, that’s strange - - and pulled a lot of old letters out of his pocket, and looked at them, and then looked at the old man’s writing, and then them again; and then says: “These old letters is from Harvey Wilks; and here’s these two’s writings, and anybody can see they didn’t write them.” (The king and the duke looked pretty foolish, I tell you, to see how the lawyer had tricked them into writing.) “And here’s this old man’s hand writing, and anybody can tell, easy enough, he didn’t write them either -- truth is, the scratches he makes can’t really be called writing at all. Now, here’s some letters from -- “

 

The new old man says: “If you please, let me say something. Nobody can read my hand but my brother there -- so he writes for me. It’s his hand you’ve got there, not mine.”

 

“Well! “ says the lawyer, “this is getting more confused as we go. I’ve got some of William’s letters, too; so if you’ll get him to write a line or two we can -- “

 

“He can’t write with his left hand,” says the old man. “If he could use his right, you'd see that he wrote his own letters and mine too. Look at both, please -- they’re by the same hand.”

 

The lawyer done it, and says: “I believe it’s so -- and if it ain’t so, they’re more the same than I’d seen before, anyway. Well, well, well! I thought we was right close to fixing this problem, but it’s gone to grass, partly. Anyway, one thing is proved -- these other two ain’t either of ‘em Wilkses” -- and he turned his head toward the king and the duke.

 

Well, what do you think? That stupid old man wouldn’t give in even then! Said it weren’t no fair test. Said his brother William was the worst joker in the world, and hadn’t tried to write -- he seen William was going to play one of his jokes the minute he put the pen to paper. He warmed up and went singing right along until he was really starting to believe what he was saying himself; but pretty soon the new man broke in, and says: “I’ve thought of something. Is there any here that helped to lay out my br -- helped to lay out the late Peter Wilks for burying?”

 

“Yes,” says somebody, “Me and Ab Turner done it. We’re both here.”

 

Then the old man turns toward the king, and says: “Maybe this man can tell me what was printed in ink on his chest?”

 

Blamed if the king didn’t have to pull himself up mighty fast, or he’d a dropped like the side of a river that the water has cut under, it took him so by surprise. But then it was a thing that was planned to make him drop, to get hit with such a solid one as that without any warning, because how was he going to know what was written on the man’s chest? He turned a little white; he couldn’t help it. It was mighty quiet in there, with everybody bending a little forward and looking at him. Says I to myself, Now he’ll give up -- there ain’t no more use. Well, did he? A body can’t hardly believe it, but he didn’t.

 

I think he thought he’d keep the thing up until he tired them people out, so they’d some of them go home, and him and the duke could break loose and get away. Anyway, he sat there, and pretty soon he started to smile, and says: “Hmm! It’s a very difficult question, ain’t it! Yes, sir, I can tell you what’s written on his chest. It’s just a small, thin, blue arrow -- that’s what it is; and if you don’t look closely you can’t see it. Now what do you say -- hey?”

 

Well, I never seen anything like that old wind bag for clean out-and-out lies.

 

The new old man turns quickly toward Ab Turner and his helper, and his eye lights up like he judged he’d got the king this time, and says: “There -- you’ve heard what he said! Was there any such mark on Peter Wilks’ chest?”

 

Both of them says: “We didn’t see no such mark.”

 

“Good!” says the old man. “Now, what you did see on his breast was a small P, and a B and a W, with lines between them,so:P--B--W” – and he marked them that way on a piece of paper. “Come, ain’t that what you saw?”

 

Both of them spoke up again, and says: “No, we didn’t. We never seen any marks at all.”

 

Well, everybody was angry now, and they sings out: “The whole lot of ‘em’s counterfeits! Let’s feather ‘em! Let’s drown ‘em!” and everybody was shouting at once.

 

But the lawyer he jumps on the table and shouts, and says: “Friends -- friends! Hear me just a word -- just one word -- if you PLEASE! There’s one way yet -- let’s go and dig up the body and look.”

 

That took them.

 

“Hooray!” they all shouted, and was starting right off; but the lawyer and the doctor shouted out: “Hold on, hold on! Hold all these four men and the boy, and bring them along, too!”

 

“We’ll do it!” they all shouted; “and if we don’t find them marks we’ll hang the whole gang!”

 

I was scared, now, I tell you. But there weren’t no getting away, you know. They were holding us all, and pushed us right along, straight for the burying ground, which was a mile and a half down the river, and the whole town at our heels, for we made noise enough, and it was only nine in the evening.

 

As we went by our house I wished I hadn’t sent Mary Jane out of town; because now if I could give her the wink she’d come out and save me, and blow on our robber friends.

 

Well, they moved along down the river road, just carrying on like wild cats; and to make it seem worse the sky was darking up, and the lightning starting to wink and jump around, and the wind started shaking the leaves. This was the most awful trouble and the most danger I ever was in; and I was lost for a plan; everything was going so different from what I had planned for; instead of being fixed so I could take my own time if I wanted to, and see all the fun, and have Mary Jane at my back to save me and set me free when the trouble come, there was nothing in the world between me and death but just them marks on old Peter’s chest. If they didn’t find them --

 

I couldn’t even think about it; and yet, at the same time, I couldn’t think about nothing else. It got darker and darker, and it was a beautiful time to break away from the crowd; but that big rough man had me by the wrist -- Hines -- and a body might as well try to break away from Goliath. He pulled me right along, he was in such a hurry, and I had to run to keep up.

 

When they got there they all crowded into the burying ground and washed over it like a wave. And when they got to where Peter was buried they found they had about a hundred times as many shovels as they wanted, but nobody hadn’t thought to bring a lantern. But they sailed into digging anyway by the light of the lightning, and sent a man to the nearest house, a half a mile off, to borrow a lantern.

 

So they went digging like anything; and it got awful dark, and the rain started, and the wind moved this way and that, and the lightning come faster and faster, and the thunder boomed; but them people never took no interest in that, they was so full of this business; and one minute you could see everything and every face in that big crowd, and the shovels of dirt sailing up out of the hole, and the next second the dark rubbed it all out, and you couldn’t see nothing at all.

 

At last they got out the box and started to take the screws out of the cover, and then such another crowding and shouldering and pushing there was, to get in close and see, as there never was; and in the dark, that way, it was awful. Hines he was hurting my wrist badly pulling so, and I think he wasn’t thinking about me at all, he was so interested in the box and the body in it.

 

Then the lightning let go a perfect explosion of white light, and someone sings out: “By the living lord, here’s the bag of gold on his breast!”

 

Hines let out a shout, like everybody else, and dropped my wrist and give a big push to force his way in and get a look, and the way I run out and headed for the road in the dark there ain’t nobody can tell.

 

I had the road all to myself, and I was almost flying -- at least, I had it all to myself apart from the solid dark, and the now-and-then lightning, and the sound of the rain, and the push of the wind, and the booms of the thunder; and sure as you are born I did race it along!

 

When I hit the town I see there weren’t nobody out in the storm, so I never hunted for no back streets, but ran straight through the middle one; and when I started to get toward our house I looked in that direction. No light there; the house all dark -- which made me feel sorry and sad, I didn’t know why. But at last, just as I was sailing by, on comes the light in Mary Jane’s window! and my heart filled up enough to almost explode; and the same second the house and all was behind me in the dark, and wasn’t ever going to be before me no more in this world. She was the best girl I ever see, and had the most strength.

 

The minute I was far enough above the town to see I could make the island, I started to look sharp for a boat to borrow, and the first time the lightning showed me one that wasn’t chained I took it and jumped in. It was a canoe, and it weren’t tied with nothing but a rope. The towhead was still a long way off, out there in the middle of the river, but I didn’t lose no time; and when I come on the raft at last I was so tired I would a just fell down to blow and breathe again if I could of. But I didn’t. As I jumped on I shouted out: “Out with you, Jim, and cut her loose! Glory be to God, we’re free of them!”

 

 

Jim stepped out, and was a-coming for me with both arms open, he was so happy; but when I saw him in the lightning my heart jumped up in my mouth and I went over into the water backward; for I hadn’t remembered that he was a drowned Arab, and it almost scared the lights out of me.

 

But Jim fished me out, and was