{"id":"01KG16VBXM60WPD466AE1K8JCT","cid":"bafkreici63shfusttzssezwzbg4iqyiw7rraehuu4jjd4mpqyt2viaz6xu","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":7868,"extracted_at":"2026-01-28T02:27:48.522Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 2","source_file":"01KG0K71QZ8KK7RGEGSNTB5534","start_line":7784,"text":"Becky grew apprehensive.\r\n\r\n“I wonder how long we’ve been down here, Tom? We better start back.”\r\n\r\n“Yes, I reckon we better. P’raps we better.”\r\n\r\n“Can you find the way, Tom? It’s all a mixed-up crookedness to me.”\r\n\r\n“I reckon I could find it—but then the bats. If they put our candles\r\nout it will be an awful fix. Let’s try some other way, so as not to go\r\nthrough there.”\r\n\r\n“Well. But I hope we won’t get lost. It would be so awful!” and the girl\r\nshuddered at the thought of the dreadful possibilities.\r\n\r\nThey started through a corridor, and traversed it in silence a long\r\nway, glancing at each new opening, to see if there was anything familiar\r\nabout the look of it; but they were all strange. Every time Tom made an\r\nexamination, Becky would watch his face for an encouraging sign, and he\r\nwould say cheerily:\r\n\r\n“Oh, it’s all right. This ain’t the one, but we’ll come to it right\r\naway!”\r\n\r\nBut he felt less and less hopeful with each failure, and presently began\r\nto turn off into diverging avenues at sheer random, in desperate hope of\r\nfinding the one that was wanted. He still said it was “all right,” but\r\nthere was such a leaden dread at his heart that the words had lost their\r\nring and sounded just as if he had said, “All is lost!” Becky clung to\r\nhis side in an anguish of fear, and tried hard to keep back the tears,\r\nbut they would come. At last she said:\r\n\r\n“Oh, Tom, never mind the bats, let’s go back that way! We seem to get\r\nworse and worse off all the time.”\r\n\r\n“Listen!” said he.\r\n\r\nProfound silence; silence so deep that even their breathings were\r\nconspicuous in the hush. Tom shouted. The call went echoing down\r\nthe empty aisles and died out in the distance in a faint sound that\r\nresembled a ripple of mocking laughter.\r\n\r\n“Oh, don’t do it again, Tom, it is too horrid,” said Becky.\r\n\r\n“It is horrid, but I better, Becky; they might hear us, you know,” and\r\nhe shouted again.\r\n\r\nThe “might” was even a chillier horror than the ghostly laughter, it so\r\nconfessed a perishing hope. The children stood still and listened; but\r\nthere was no result. Tom turned upon the back track at once, and hurried\r\nhis steps. It was but a little while before a certain indecision in his\r\nmanner revealed another fearful fact to Becky—he could not find his way\r\nback!\r\n\r\n“Oh, Tom, you didn’t make any marks!”\r\n\r\n“Becky, I was such a fool! Such a fool! I never thought we might want to\r\ncome back! No—I can’t find the way. It’s all mixed up.”\r\n\r\n“Tom, Tom, we’re lost! we’re lost! We never can get out of this awful\r\nplace! Oh, why _did_ we ever leave the others!”\r\n\r\nShe sank to the ground and burst into such a frenzy of crying that Tom\r\nwas appalled with the idea that she might die, or lose her reason. He\r\nsat down by her and put his arms around her; she buried her face in\r\nhis bosom, she clung to him, she poured out her terrors, her unavailing\r\nregrets, and the far echoes turned them all to jeering laughter. Tom\r\nbegged her to pluck up hope again, and she said she could not. He fell\r\nto blaming and abusing himself for getting her into this miserable\r\nsituation; this had a better effect. She said she would try to hope\r\nagain, she would get up and follow wherever he might lead if only he\r\nwould not talk like that any more. For he was no more to blame than she,\r\nshe said.\r\n\r\nSo they moved on again—aimlessly—simply at random—all they could do\r\nwas to move, keep moving. For a little while, hope made a show of\r\nreviving—not with any reason to back it, but only because it is its\r\nnature to revive when the spring has not been taken out of it by age and\r\nfamiliarity with failure.\r\n\r\nBy-and-by Tom took Becky’s candle and blew it out. This economy meant so\r\nmuch! Words were not needed. Becky understood, and her hope died again.\r\nShe knew that Tom had a whole candle and three or four pieces in his\r\npockets—yet he must economize.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 2"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG16PT72Y4T7RCTFDAYP8F7H","peer_label":"CHAPTER XXXI","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG0K71QZ8KK7RGEGSNTB5534","peer_label":"tom_sawyer.txt","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KFXT0KM64XT6K8W52TDEE0YS","peer_label":"More Classics","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG16VBXKFHWQZ3MX9NC9C725","peer_label":"Chunk 1","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG16VBX8912KNNNEVZWNFA7N","peer_label":"Chunk 3","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-28T02:27:48.857Z","ts":"2026-01-28T02:27:49.860Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}