{"id":"01KG179KMZ90MGG1A9JJN8ZMBT","cid":"bafkreieafr72jwlo5477pmw3aez4uzdn5qjv2ec53mjowsls3r44fgbb5u","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":6460,"extracted_at":"2026-01-28T02:35:35.229Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 3","source_file":"01KG0K71QZ8KK7RGEGSNTB5534","start_line":6367,"text":"“Shucks! Witches ain’t got no power in the daytime.”\r\n\r\n“Well, that’s so. I didn’t think of that. Oh, I know what the matter is!\r\nWhat a blamed lot of fools we are! You got to find out where the shadow\r\nof the limb falls at midnight, and that’s where you dig!”\r\n\r\n“Then consound it, we’ve fooled away all this work for nothing. Now hang\r\nit all, we got to come back in the night. It’s an awful long way. Can\r\nyou get out?”\r\n\r\n“I bet I will. We’ve got to do it tonight, too, because if somebody sees\r\nthese holes they’ll know in a minute what’s here and they’ll go for it.”\r\n\r\n“Well, I’ll come around and maow tonight.”\r\n\r\n“All right. Let’s hide the tools in the bushes.”\r\n\r\nThe boys were there that night, about the appointed time. They sat in\r\nthe shadow waiting. It was a lonely place, and an hour made solemn by\r\nold traditions. Spirits whispered in the rustling leaves, ghosts lurked\r\nin the murky nooks, the deep baying of a hound floated up out of the\r\ndistance, an owl answered with his sepulchral note. The boys were\r\nsubdued by these solemnities, and talked little. By and by they judged\r\nthat twelve had come; they marked where the shadow fell, and began to\r\ndig. Their hopes commenced to rise. Their interest grew stronger, and\r\ntheir industry kept pace with it. The hole deepened and still deepened,\r\nbut every time their hearts jumped to hear the pick strike upon\r\nsomething, they only suffered a new disappointment. It was only a stone\r\nor a chunk. At last Tom said:\r\n\r\n“It ain’t any use, Huck, we’re wrong again.”\r\n\r\n“Well, but we _can’t_ be wrong. We spotted the shadder to a dot.”\r\n\r\n“I know it, but then there’s another thing.”\r\n\r\n“What’s that?”\r\n\r\n“Why, we only guessed at the time. Like enough it was too late or too\r\nearly.”\r\n\r\nHuck dropped his shovel.\r\n\r\n“That’s it,” said he. “That’s the very trouble. We got to give this one\r\nup. We can’t ever tell the right time, and besides this kind of thing’s\r\ntoo awful, here this time of night with witches and ghosts a-fluttering\r\naround so. I feel as if something’s behind me all the time; and I’m\r\nafeard to turn around, becuz maybe there’s others in front a-waiting for\r\na chance. I been creeping all over, ever since I got here.”\r\n\r\n“Well, I’ve been pretty much so, too, Huck. They most always put in a\r\ndead man when they bury a treasure under a tree, to look out for it.”\r\n\r\n“Lordy!”\r\n\r\n“Yes, they do. I’ve always heard that.”\r\n\r\n“Tom, I don’t like to fool around much where there’s dead people. A\r\nbody’s bound to get into trouble with ’em, sure.”\r\n\r\n“I don’t like to stir ’em up, either. S’pose this one here was to stick\r\nhis skull out and say something!”\r\n\r\n“Don’t Tom! It’s awful.”\r\n\r\n“Well, it just is. Huck, I don’t feel comfortable a bit.”\r\n\r\n“Say, Tom, let’s give this place up, and try somewheres else.”\r\n\r\n“All right, I reckon we better.”\r\n\r\n“What’ll it be?”\r\n\r\nTom considered awhile; and then said:\r\n\r\n“The ha’nted house. That’s it!”\r\n\r\n“Blame it, I don’t like ha’nted houses, Tom. Why, they’re a dern sight\r\nworse’n dead people. Dead people might talk, maybe, but they don’t come\r\nsliding around in a shroud, when you ain’t noticing, and peep over your\r\nshoulder all of a sudden and grit their teeth, the way a ghost does. I\r\ncouldn’t stand such a thing as that, Tom—nobody could.”\r\n\r\n“Yes, but, Huck, ghosts don’t travel around only at night. They won’t\r\nhender us from digging there in the daytime.”\r\n\r\n“Well, that’s so. But you know mighty well people don’t go about that\r\nha’nted house in the day nor the night.”\r\n\r\n“Well, that’s mostly because they don’t like to go where a man’s been\r\nmurdered, anyway—but nothing’s ever been seen around that house except\r\nin the night—just some blue lights slipping by the windows—no regular\r\nghosts.”\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 3"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG176GVV3HDDPKS592TVP5T5","peer_label":"CHAPTER XXV","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":"01KG179KMXD4DKMZ2APARQM57E","peer_label":"Chunk 2","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG179KQ0JA429QH1833NFGJK","peer_label":"Chunk 4","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-28T02:35:35.547Z","ts":"2026-01-28T02:35:36.624Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}