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"
Now
,
"
said
Joe
,
getting
up
,
"
you
got
to
let
me
kill
YOU
.
That
's
fair
.
"
"
Why
,
I
ca
n't
do
that
,
it
ai
n't
in
the
book
.
"
"
Well
,
it
's
blamed
mean
--
that
's
all
.
"
"
Well
,
say
,
Joe
,
you
can
be
Friar
Tuck
or
Much
the
miller
's
son
,
and
lam
me
with
a
quarter-staff
;
or
I
'll
be
the
Sheriff
of
Nottingham
and
you
be
Robin
Hood
a
little
while
and
kill
me
.
"
This
was
satisfactory
,
and
so
these
adventures
were
carried
out
.
Then
Tom
became
Robin
Hood
again
,
and
was
allowed
by
the
treacherous
nun
to
bleed
his
strength
away
through
his
neglected
wound
.
And
at
last
Joe
,
representing
a
whole
tribe
of
weeping
outlaws
,
dragged
him
sadly
forth
,
gave
his
bow
into
his
feeble
hands
,
and
Tom
said
,
"
Where
this
arrow
falls
,
there
bury
poor
Robin
Hood
under
the
greenwood
tree
.
"
Then
he
shot
the
arrow
and
fell
back
and
would
have
died
,
but
he
lit
on
a
nettle
and
sprang
up
too
gaily
for
a
corpse
.
The
boys
dressed
themselves
,
hid
their
accoutrements
,
and
went
off
grieving
that
there
were
no
outlaws
any
more
,
and
wondering
what
modern
civilization
could
claim
to
have
done
to
compensate
for
their
loss
.
They
said
they
would
rather
be
outlaws
a
year
in
Sherwood
Forest
than
President
of
the
United
States
forever
.
At
half-past
nine
,
that
night
,
Tom
and
Sid
were
sent
to
bed
,
as
usual
.
They
said
their
prayers
,
and
Sid
was
soon
asleep
.
Tom
lay
awake
and
waited
,
in
restless
impatience
.
When
it
seemed
to
him
that
it
must
be
nearly
daylight
,
he
heard
the
clock
strike
ten
!
This
was
despair
.
He
would
have
tossed
and
fidgeted
,
as
his
nerves
demanded
,
but
he
was
afraid
he
might
wake
Sid
.
So
he
lay
still
,
and
stared
up
into
the
dark
.
Everything
was
dismally
still
.
By
and
by
,
out
of
the
stillness
,
little
,
scarcely
preceptible
noises
began
to
emphasize
themselves
.
The
ticking
of
the
clock
began
to
bring
itself
into
notice
.
Old
beams
began
to
crack
mysteriously
.
The
stairs
creaked
faintly
.
Evidently
spirits
were
abroad
.
A
measured
,
muffled
snore
issued
from
Aunt
Polly
's
chamber
.
And
now
the
tiresome
chirping
of
a
cricket
that
no
human
ingenuity
could
locate
,
began
.
Next
the
ghastly
ticking
of
a
deathwatch
in
the
wall
at
the
bed
's
head
made
Tom
shudder
--
it
meant
that
somebody
's
days
were
numbered
.
Then
the
howl
of
a
far-off
dog
rose
on
the
night
air
,
and
was
answered
by
a
fainter
howl
from
a
remoter
distance
.
Tom
was
in
an
agony
.
At
last
he
was
satisfied
that
time
had
ceased
and
eternity
begun
;
he
began
to
doze
,
in
spite
of
himself
;
the
clock
chimed
eleven
,
but
he
did
not
hear
it
.
And
then
there
came
,
mingling
with
his
half-formed
dreams
,
a
most
melancholy
caterwauling
.
The
raising
of
a
neighboring
window
disturbed
him
.
A
cry
of
"
Scat
!
you
devil
!
"
and
the
crash
of
an
empty
bottle
against
the
back
of
his
aunt
's
woodshed
brought
him
wide
awake
,
and
a
single
minute
later
he
was
dressed
and
out
of
the
window
and
creeping
along
the
roof
of
the
"
ell
"
on
all
fours
.
He
"
meow
'd
"
with
caution
once
or
twice
,
as
he
went
;
then
jumped
to
the
roof
of
the
woodshed
and
thence
to
the
ground
.
Huckleberry
Finn
was
there
,
with
his
dead
cat
.
The
boys
moved
off
and
disappeared
in
the
gloom
.
At
the
end
of
half
an
hour
they
were
wading
through
the
tall
grass
of
the
graveyard
.
It
was
a
graveyard
of
the
old-fashioned
Western
kind
.
It
was
on
a
hill
,
about
a
mile
and
a
half
from
the
village
.
It
had
a
crazy
board
fence
around
it
,
which
leaned
inward
in
places
,
and
outward
the
rest
of
the
time
,
but
stood
upright
nowhere
.
Grass
and
weeds
grew
rank
over
the
whole
cemetery
.
All
the
old
graves
were
sunken
in
,
there
was
not
a
tombstone
on
the
place
;
round-topped
,
worm-eaten
boards
staggered
over
the
graves
,
leaning
for
support
and
finding
none
.
"
Sacred
to
the
memory
of
"
So-and-So
had
been
painted
on
them
once
,
but
it
could
no
longer
have
been
read
,
on
the
most
of
them
,
now
,
even
if
there
had
been
light
.
A
faint
wind
moaned
through
the
trees
,
and
Tom
feared
it
might
be
the
spirits
of
the
dead
,
complaining
at
being
disturbed
.
The
boys
talked
little
,
and
only
under
their
breath
,
for
the
time
and
the
place
and
the
pervading
solemnity
and
silence
oppressed
their
spirits
.
They
found
the
sharp
new
heap
they
were
seeking
,
and
ensconced
themselves
within
the
protection
of
three
great
elms
that
grew
in
a
bunch
within
a
few
feet
of
the
grave
.
Then
they
waited
in
silence
for
what
seemed
a
long
time
.
The
hooting
of
a
distant
owl
was
all
the
sound
that
troubled
the
dead
stillness
.
Tom
's
reflections
grew
oppressive
.
He
must
force
some
talk
.
So
he
said
in
a
whisper
:
