He never had supposed for a moment that so large a sum as a hundred dollars was to be found in actual money in anyone’s possession. If his notions of hidden treasure had been analyzed, they would have been found to consist of a handful of real dimes and a bushel of vague, splendid, ungraspable dollars . . . But the incidents of his adventure grew sensible sharper and clearer under the attrition of thinking them over, and so he presently found himself leaning to the impression that the thing might not have been a dream, after all.
Now you get hold of all the doorkeys you can find, and I’ll nip all of Auntie’s, and the first dark night we’ll go there and try ‘em. And mind you, keep a lookout for Injun Joe, because he said he was going to drop into town and spy around once more for a chance to get his revenge.
No, he would stick to their wake and follow them; he would trust to the darkness for security from discovery. So communing with himself, Huck stepped out and glided along behind the men, catlike, with bare feet, allowing them to keep just far enough ahead not to be invisible.
When he emerged at the quarry he felt secure, and so he picked up his nimble heels and flew. Down, down he sped, till he reached the Welshman’s. He banged at the door, and presently the heads of the old man and his two stalwart sons were thrust from the windows.
Three minutes later the old man and his sons, well armed, were up the hill, and just entering the sumac path on tiptoe, their weapons in their hands. Huck accompanied them no further . . . There was a lagging, anxious silence, and then all of a sudden there was an explosion of firearms and a cry.