{"id":"01KG2TSH4VZ3ZBMNRBR4Q1C4R5","cid":"bafkreibvymeic5ks4ygpktnh5nbiraniyyzmtii6djjzjvhnuqzckpyany","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":5500,"extracted_at":"2026-01-28T17:35:34.214Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 3","source_file":"01KG2T4RHC4E1XKJ12BJRXE8E8","start_line":5416,"text":"herself to keep still—because, said she to herself, “he’ll tell about me\r\ntearing the picture sure. I wouldn’t say a word, not to save his life!”\r\n\r\nTom took his whipping and went back to his seat not at all\r\nbroken-hearted, for he thought it was possible that he had unknowingly\r\nupset the ink on the spelling-book himself, in some skylarking bout—he\r\nhad denied it for form’s sake and because it was custom, and had stuck\r\nto the denial from principle.\r\n\r\nA whole hour drifted by, the master sat nodding in his throne, the air\r\nwas drowsy with the hum of study. By and by, Mr. Dobbins straightened\r\nhimself up, yawned, then unlocked his desk, and reached for his book,\r\nbut seemed undecided whether to take it out or leave it. Most of the\r\npupils glanced up languidly, but there were two among them that watched\r\nhis movements with intent eyes. Mr. Dobbins fingered his book absently\r\nfor a while, then took it out and settled himself in his chair to read!\r\nTom shot a glance at Becky. He had seen a hunted and helpless rabbit\r\nlook as she did, with a gun levelled at its head. Instantly he forgot\r\nhis quarrel with her. Quick—something must be done! done in a flash,\r\ntoo! But the very imminence of the emergency paralyzed his invention.\r\nGood!—he had an inspiration! He would run and snatch the book, spring\r\nthrough the door and fly. But his resolution shook for one little\r\ninstant, and the chance was lost—the master opened the volume. If Tom\r\nonly had the wasted opportunity back again! Too late. There was no help\r\nfor Becky now, he said. The next moment the master faced the school.\r\nEvery eye sank under his gaze. There was that in it which smote even\r\nthe innocent with fear. There was silence while one might count ten—the\r\nmaster was gathering his wrath. Then he spoke: “Who tore this book?”\r\n\r\nThere was not a sound. One could have heard a pin drop. The stillness\r\ncontinued; the master searched face after face for signs of guilt.\r\n\r\n“Benjamin Rogers, did you tear this book?”\r\n\r\nA denial. Another pause.\r\n\r\n“Joseph Harper, did you?”\r\n\r\nAnother denial. Tom’s uneasiness grew more and more intense under the\r\nslow torture of these proceedings. The master scanned the ranks of\r\nboys—considered a while, then turned to the girls:\r\n\r\n“Amy Lawrence?”\r\n\r\nA shake of the head.\r\n\r\n“Gracie Miller?”\r\n\r\nThe same sign.\r\n\r\n“Susan Harper, did you do this?”\r\n\r\nAnother negative. The next girl was Becky Thatcher. Tom was trembling\r\nfrom head to foot with excitement and a sense of the hopelessness of the\r\nsituation.\r\n\r\n“Rebecca Thatcher” [Tom glanced at her face—it was white with\r\nterror]—“did you tear—no, look me in the face” [her hands rose in\r\nappeal]—“did you tear this book?”\r\n\r\nA thought shot like lightning through Tom’s brain. He sprang to his feet\r\nand shouted—“I done it!”\r\n\r\nThe school stared in perplexity at this incredible folly. Tom stood a\r\nmoment, to gather his dismembered faculties; and when he stepped forward\r\nto go to his punishment the surprise, the gratitude, the adoration that\r\nshone upon him out of poor Becky’s eyes seemed pay enough for a hundred\r\nfloggings. Inspired by the splendor of his own act, he took without\r\nan outcry the most merciless flaying that even Mr. Dobbins had ever\r\nadministered; and also received with indifference the added cruelty of a\r\ncommand to remain two hours after school should be dismissed—for he\r\nknew who would wait for him outside till his captivity was done, and not\r\ncount the tedious time as loss, either.\r\n\r\nTom went to bed that night planning vengeance against Alfred Temple; for\r\nwith shame and repentance Becky had told him all, not forgetting her own\r\ntreachery; but even the longing for vengeance had to give way, soon, to\r\npleasanter musings, and he fell asleep at last with Becky’s latest words\r\nlingering dreamily in his ear—\r\n\r\n“Tom, how _could_ you be so noble!”\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 3"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG2TRBEAZQ94DC4CJFWQ9WH5","peer_label":"CHAPTER XX","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG2T4RHC4E1XKJ12BJRXE8E8","peer_label":"tom_sawyer.txt","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG2T49K0H5GDRB0G4YDTPG8H","peer_label":"Test Collection","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG2TSH5C0142W6E4DSY65NVJ","peer_label":"Chunk 2","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-28T17:35:34.652Z","ts":"2026-01-28T17:35:35.735Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}