lead up to the subject. If he did not do it, then the adventure would be proved to have been only a dream.
“Hello, Huck!”
“Hello, yourself.”
Silence, for a minute.
“Tom, if we’d ’a’ left the blame tools at the dead tree, we’d ’a’ got the money. Oh, ain’t it awful!”
“ ’Tain’t a dream, then, ’tain’t a dream! Somehow I most wish it was. Dog’d if I don’t, Huck.”
“What ain’t a dream?”
“Oh, that thing yesterday. I been half thinking it was.”
“Dream! If them stairs hadn’t broke down you’d ’a’ seen how much dream it was! I’ve had dreams enough all night—with that patch-eyed Spanish devil going for me all through ’em—rot him!”
“No, not rot him. Find him! Track the money!”
“Tom, we’ll never find him. A feller don’t have only one chance for such a pile—and that one’s lost. I’d feel mighty shaky if I was to see him, anyway.”
“Well, so’d I; but I’d like to see him, anyway—and track him out—to his Number Two.”
“Number Two—yes, that’s it. I been thinking ’bout that. But I can’t make nothing out of it. What do you reckon it is?”
“I dono. It’s too deep. Say, Huck—maybe it’s the number of a house!”