{"id":"01KG17A22FQ7TXB7C4Y637HFNX","cid":"bafkreief32pi76hwzzwzslx7v4f7p27wkhi7j765hransqfoj62qdod4dq","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":7526,"extracted_at":"2026-01-28T02:35:49.961Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 2","source_file":"01KG0K71QZ8KK7RGEGSNTB5534","start_line":7442,"text":"When the young men were gone, the old Welshman said:\r\n\r\n“They won’t tell—and I won’t. But why don’t you want it known?”\r\n\r\nHuck would not explain, further than to say that he already knew too\r\nmuch about one of those men and would not have the man know that he knew\r\nanything against him for the whole world—he would be killed for knowing\r\nit, sure.\r\n\r\nThe old man promised secrecy once more, and said:\r\n\r\n“How did you come to follow these fellows, lad? Were they looking\r\nsuspicious?”\r\n\r\nHuck was silent while he framed a duly cautious reply. Then he said:\r\n\r\n“Well, you see, I’m a kind of a hard lot,—least everybody says so, and\r\nI don’t see nothing agin it—and sometimes I can’t sleep much, on account\r\nof thinking about it and sort of trying to strike out a new way of\r\ndoing. That was the way of it last night. I couldn’t sleep, and so I\r\ncome along upstreet ’bout midnight, a-turning it all over, and when I\r\ngot to that old shackly brick store by the Temperance Tavern, I backed\r\nup agin the wall to have another think. Well, just then along comes\r\nthese two chaps slipping along close by me, with something under their\r\narm, and I reckoned they’d stole it. One was a-smoking, and t’other one\r\nwanted a light; so they stopped right before me and the cigars lit up\r\ntheir faces and I see that the big one was the deaf and dumb Spaniard,\r\nby his white whiskers and the patch on his eye, and t’other one was a\r\nrusty, ragged-looking devil.”\r\n\r\n“Could you see the rags by the light of the cigars?”\r\n\r\nThis staggered Huck for a moment. Then he said:\r\n\r\n“Well, I don’t know—but somehow it seems as if I did.”\r\n\r\n“Then they went on, and you—”\r\n\r\n“Follered ’em—yes. That was it. I wanted to see what was up—they sneaked\r\nalong so. I dogged ’em to the widder’s stile, and stood in the dark and\r\nheard the ragged one beg for the widder, and the Spaniard swear he’d\r\nspile her looks just as I told you and your two—”\r\n\r\n“What! The _deaf and dumb_ man said all that!”\r\n\r\nHuck had made another terrible mistake! He was trying his best to keep\r\nthe old man from getting the faintest hint of who the Spaniard might be,\r\nand yet his tongue seemed determined to get him into trouble in spite of\r\nall he could do. He made several efforts to creep out of his scrape,\r\nbut the old man’s eye was upon him and he made blunder after blunder.\r\nPresently the Welshman said:\r\n\r\n“My boy, don’t be afraid of me. I wouldn’t hurt a hair of your head for\r\nall the world. No—I’d protect you—I’d protect you. This Spaniard is\r\nnot deaf and dumb; you’ve let that slip without intending it; you can’t\r\ncover that up now. You know something about that Spaniard that you want\r\nto keep dark. Now trust me—tell me what it is, and trust me—I won’t\r\nbetray you.”\r\n\r\nHuck looked into the old man’s honest eyes a moment, then bent over and\r\nwhispered in his ear:\r\n\r\n“’Tain’t a Spaniard—it’s Injun Joe!”\r\n\r\nThe Welshman almost jumped out of his chair. In a moment he said:\r\n\r\n“It’s all plain enough, now. When you talked about notching ears and\r\nslitting noses I judged that that was your own embellishment, because\r\nwhite men don’t take that sort of revenge. But an Injun! That’s a\r\ndifferent matter altogether.”\r\n\r\nDuring breakfast the talk went on, and in the course of it the old man\r\nsaid that the last thing which he and his sons had done, before going\r\nto bed, was to get a lantern and examine the stile and its vicinity for\r\nmarks of blood. They found none, but captured a bulky bundle of—\r\n\r\n“Of _what_?”\r\n\r\nIf the words had been lightning they could not have leaped with a more\r\nstunning suddenness from Huck’s blanched lips. His eyes were staring\r\nwide, now, and his breath suspended—waiting for the answer. The Welshman\r\nstarted—stared in return—three seconds—five seconds—ten—then replied:\r\n\r\n“Of burglar’s tools. Why, what’s the _matter_ with you?”\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 2"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG176GQB7F00KKAYXGY02KYQ","peer_label":"CHAPTER XXX","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":"01KG17A22PJ1M7KN577TJXAXDY","peer_label":"Chunk 1","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG17A22PF4WY2JFYY1M9JQQ9","peer_label":"Chunk 3","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-28T02:35:50.365Z","ts":"2026-01-28T02:35:51.076Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}