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- 7725
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-28T17:35:21.817Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 7680
- text
- precious, because this one parted latest from the living body before the
awful death came. Some said that now and then, in the cave, a far-away
speck of light would glimmer, and then a glorious shout would burst
forth and a score of men go trooping down the echoing aisle—and then a
sickening disappointment always followed; the children were not there;
it was only a searcher’s light.
Three dreadful days and nights dragged their tedious hours along, and
the village sank into a hopeless stupor. No one had heart for anything.
The accidental discovery, just made, that the proprietor of the
Temperance Tavern kept liquor on his premises, scarcely fluttered the
public pulse, tremendous as the fact was. In a lucid interval, Huck
feebly led up to the subject of taverns, and finally asked—dimly
dreading the worst—if anything had been discovered at the Temperance
Tavern since he had been ill.
“Yes,” said the widow.
Huck started up in bed, wild-eyed:
“What? What was it?”
“Liquor!—and the place has been shut up. Lie down, child—what a turn you
did give me!”
“Only tell me just one thing—only just one—please! Was it Tom Sawyer
that found it?”
The widow burst into tears. “Hush, hush, child, hush! I’ve told you
before, you must _not_ talk. You are very, very sick!”
Then nothing but liquor had been found; there would have been a great
powwow if it had been the gold. So the treasure was gone forever—gone
forever! But what could she be crying about? Curious that she should
cry.
These thoughts worked their dim way through Huck’s mind, and under the
weariness they gave him he fell asleep. The widow said to herself:
“There—he’s asleep, poor wreck. Tom Sawyer find it! Pity but somebody
could find Tom Sawyer! Ah, there ain’t many left, now, that’s got hope
enough, or strength enough, either, to go on searching.”
- title
- Chunk 2