{"id":"01KG17AD3G6610NKKE07DHMPCB","cid":"bafkreicx2ipk5faxw4eimy3aitcsyfogowxmdtbqgtwjeccqaiq65mqdhi","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":8322,"extracted_at":"2026-01-28T02:36:01.312Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 2","source_file":"01KG0K71QZ8KK7RGEGSNTB5534","start_line":8232,"text":"first in the list of the cavern’s marvels; even “Aladdin’s Palace”\r\n cannot rival it.\r\n\r\nInjun Joe was buried near the mouth of the cave; and people flocked\r\nthere in boats and wagons from the towns and from all the farms and\r\nhamlets for seven miles around; they brought their children, and\r\nall sorts of provisions, and confessed that they had had almost as\r\nsatisfactory a time at the funeral as they could have had at the\r\nhanging.\r\n\r\nThis funeral stopped the further growth of one thing—the petition to the\r\ngovernor for Injun Joe’s pardon. The petition had been largely signed;\r\nmany tearful and eloquent meetings had been held, and a committee of\r\nsappy women been appointed to go in deep mourning and wail around the\r\ngovernor, and implore him to be a merciful ass and trample his duty\r\nunder foot. Injun Joe was believed to have killed five citizens of the\r\nvillage, but what of that? If he had been Satan himself there would\r\nhave been plenty of weaklings ready to scribble their names to a\r\npardon-petition, and drip a tear on it from their permanently impaired\r\nand leaky water-works.\r\n\r\nThe morning after the funeral Tom took Huck to a private place to have\r\nan important talk. Huck had learned all about Tom’s adventure from the\r\nWelshman and the Widow Douglas, by this time, but Tom said he reckoned\r\nthere was one thing they had not told him; that thing was what he wanted\r\nto talk about now. Huck’s face saddened. He said:\r\n\r\n“I know what it is. You got into No. 2 and never found anything but\r\nwhiskey. Nobody told me it was you; but I just knowed it must ’a’ ben\r\nyou, soon as I heard ’bout that whiskey business; and I knowed you\r\nhadn’t got the money becuz you’d ’a’ got at me some way or other and\r\ntold me even if you was mum to everybody else. Tom, something’s always\r\ntold me we’d never get holt of that swag.”\r\n\r\n“Why, Huck, I never told on that tavern-keeper. _You_ know his tavern\r\nwas all right the Saturday I went to the picnic. Don’t you remember you\r\nwas to watch there that night?”\r\n\r\n“Oh yes! Why, it seems ’bout a year ago. It was that very night that I\r\nfollered Injun Joe to the widder’s.”\r\n\r\n“_You_ followed him?”\r\n\r\n“Yes—but you keep mum. I reckon Injun Joe’s left friends behind him, and\r\nI don’t want ’em souring on me and doing me mean tricks. If it hadn’t\r\nben for me he’d be down in Texas now, all right.”\r\n\r\nThen Huck told his entire adventure in confidence to Tom, who had only\r\nheard of the Welshman’s part of it before.\r\n\r\n“Well,” said Huck, presently, coming back to the main question, “whoever\r\nnipped the whiskey in No. 2, nipped the money, too, I reckon—anyways\r\nit’s a goner for us, Tom.”\r\n\r\n“Huck, that money wasn’t ever in No. 2!”\r\n\r\n“What!” Huck searched his comrade’s face keenly. “Tom, have you got on\r\nthe track of that money again?”\r\n\r\n“Huck, it’s in the cave!”\r\n\r\nHuck’s eyes blazed.\r\n\r\n“Say it again, Tom.”\r\n\r\n“The money’s in the cave!”\r\n\r\n“Tom—honest injun, now—is it fun, or earnest?”\r\n\r\n“Earnest, Huck—just as earnest as ever I was in my life. Will you go in\r\nthere with me and help get it out?”\r\n\r\n“I bet I will! I will if it’s where we can blaze our way to it and not\r\nget lost.”\r\n\r\n“Huck, we can do that without the least little bit of trouble in the\r\nworld.”\r\n\r\n“Good as wheat! What makes you think the money’s—”\r\n\r\n“Huck, you just wait till we get in there. If we don’t find it I’ll\r\nagree to give you my drum and every thing I’ve got in the world. I will,\r\nby jings.”\r\n\r\n“All right—it’s a whiz. When do you say?”\r\n\r\n“Right now, if you say it. Are you strong enough?”\r\n\r\n“Is it far in the cave? I ben on my pins a little, three or four days,\r\nnow, but I can’t walk more’n a mile, Tom—least I don’t think I could.”\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 2"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG176GN9Q7QTQM52PK8WKBSZ","peer_label":"CHAPTER XXXIII","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":"01KG17AD3BKB6GVXR1FEM8HNYT","peer_label":"Chunk 1","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG17AD3S35FKB419WVQGGYDE","peer_label":"Chunk 3","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-28T02:36:01.607Z","ts":"2026-01-28T02:36:02.529Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}