away.
A figure crept stealthily through a break in the other end of the ruined
building, now, but they did not notice it.
Tom, whispered Huckleberry, does this keep us from _ever_
telling _always_?
Of course it does. It don t make any difference _what_ happens, we got
to keep mum. We d drop down dead don t _you_ know that?
Yes, I reckon that s so.
They continued to whisper for some little time. Presently a dog set up
a long, lugubrious howl just outside within ten feet of them. The boys
clasped each other suddenly, in an agony of fright.
Which of us does he mean? gasped Huckleberry.
I dono peep through the crack. Quick!
No, _you_, Tom!
I can t I can t _do_ it, Huck!
Please, Tom. There tis again!
Oh, lordy, I m thankful! whispered Tom. I know his voice. It s Bull
Harbison. *
[* If Mr. Harbison owned a slave named Bull, Tom would have spoken of
him as Harbison s Bull, but a son or a dog of that name was Bull
Harbison. ]
Oh, that s good I tell you, Tom, I was most scared to death; I d a bet
anything it was a _stray_ dog.
The dog howled again. The boys hearts sank once more.
Oh, my! that ain t no Bull Harbison! whispered Huckleberry. _Do_,
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