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- Марк Твен
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Close
upon
the
hour
of
noon
the
whole
village
was
suddenly
electrified
with
the
ghastly
news
.
No
need
of
the
as
yet
undreamed-of
telegraph
;
the
tale
flew
from
man
to
man
,
from
group
to
group
,
from
house
to
house
,
with
little
less
than
telegraphic
speed
.
Of
course
the
schoolmaster
gave
holiday
for
that
afternoon
;
the
town
would
have
thought
strangely
of
him
if
he
had
not
.
A
gory
knife
had
been
found
close
to
the
murdered
man
,
and
it
had
been
recognized
by
somebody
as
belonging
to
Muff
Potter
--
so
the
story
ran
.
And
it
was
said
that
a
belated
citizen
had
come
upon
Potter
washing
himself
in
the
"
branch
"
about
one
or
two
o'clock
in
the
morning
,
and
that
Potter
had
at
once
sneaked
off
--
suspicious
circumstances
,
especially
the
washing
which
was
not
a
habit
with
Potter
.
It
was
also
said
that
the
town
had
been
ransacked
for
this
"
murderer
"
(
the
public
are
not
slow
in
the
matter
of
sifting
evidence
and
arriving
at
a
verdict
)
,
but
that
he
could
not
be
found
.
Horsemen
had
departed
down
all
the
roads
in
every
direction
,
and
the
Sheriff
"
was
confident
"
that
he
would
be
captured
before
night
.
All
the
town
was
drifting
toward
the
graveyard
.
Tom
's
heartbreak
vanished
and
he
joined
the
procession
,
not
because
he
would
not
a
thousand
times
rather
go
anywhere
else
,
but
because
an
awful
,
unaccountable
fascination
drew
him
on
.
Arrived
at
the
dreadful
place
,
he
wormed
his
small
body
through
the
crowd
and
saw
the
dismal
spectacle
.
It
seemed
to
him
an
age
since
he
was
there
before
.
Somebody
pinched
his
arm
.
He
turned
,
and
his
eyes
met
Huckleberry
's
.
Then
both
looked
elsewhere
at
once
,
and
wondered
if
anybody
had
noticed
anything
in
their
mutual
glance
.
But
everybody
was
talking
,
and
intent
upon
the
grisly
spectacle
before
them
.
"
Poor
fellow
!
"
"
Poor
young
fellow
!
"
"
This
ought
to
be
a
lesson
to
grave
robbers
!
"
"
Muff
Potter
'll
hang
for
this
if
they
catch
him
!
"
This
was
the
drift
of
remark
;
and
the
minister
said
,
"
It
was
a
judgment
;
His
hand
is
here
.
"
Now
Tom
shivered
from
head
to
heel
;
for
his
eye
fell
upon
the
stolid
face
of
Injun
Joe
.
At
this
moment
the
crowd
began
to
sway
and
struggle
,
and
voices
shouted
,
"
It
's
him
!
it
's
him
!
he
's
coming
himself
!
"
"
Who
?
Who
?
"
from
twenty
voices
.
"
Muff
Potter
!
"
"
Hallo
,
he
's
stopped
!
--
Look
out
,
he
's
turning
!
Do
n't
let
him
get
away
!
"
People
in
the
branches
of
the
trees
over
Tom
's
head
said
he
was
n't
trying
to
get
away
--
he
only
looked
doubtful
and
perplexed
.
"
Infernal
impudence
!
"
said
a
bystander
;
"
wanted
to
come
and
take
a
quiet
look
at
his
work
,
I
reckon
--
did
n't
expect
any
company
.
"
