Tom thought a while, then he said:
Who ll tell? We?
What are you talking about? S pose something happened and Injun Joe
_didn t_ hang? Why, he d kill us some time or other, just as dead sure
as we re a laying here.
That s just what I was thinking to myself, Huck.
If anybody tells, let Muff Potter do it, if he s fool enough. He s
generally drunk enough.
Tom said nothing went on thinking. Presently he whispered:
Huck, Muff Potter don t know it. How can he tell?
What s the reason he don t know it?
Because he d just got that whack when Injun Joe done it. D you reckon
he could see anything? D you reckon he knowed anything?
By hokey, that s so, Tom!
And besides, look-a-here maybe that whack done for _him_!
No, taint likely, Tom. He had liquor in him; I could see that; and
besides, he always has. Well, when pap s full, you might take and belt
him over the head with a church and you couldn t phase him. He says so,
his own self. So it s the same with Muff Potter, of course. But if a man
was dead sober, I reckon maybe that whack might fetch him; I dono.
After another reflective silence, Tom said:
Hucky, you sure you can keep mum?
Tom, we _got_ to keep mum. You know that. That Injun devil wouldn t
make any more of drownding us than a couple of cats, if we was to squeak
bout this and they didn t hang him. Now, look-a-here, Tom, less take
and swear to one another that s what we got to do swear to keep mum.
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