{"id":"01KG2TSH8E7GKG4HCZSQ4SS20R","cid":"bafkreidxwvcqv72qwkkaqk4oxk5vehnlooxeho6pzzxxk52xppgbc57n2u","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":3783,"extracted_at":"2026-01-28T17:35:34.199Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 1","source_file":"01KG2T4RHC4E1XKJ12BJRXE8E8","start_line":3714,"text":"CHAPTER XIII\r\n\r\n\r\nTom’s mind was made up now. He was gloomy and desperate. He was a\r\nforsaken, friendless boy, he said; nobody loved him; when they found out\r\nwhat they had driven him to, perhaps they would be sorry; he had tried\r\nto do right and get along, but they would not let him; since nothing\r\nwould do them but to be rid of him, let it be so; and let them blame\r\n_him_ for the consequences—why shouldn’t they? What right had the\r\nfriendless to complain? Yes, they had forced him to it at last: he would\r\nlead a life of crime. There was no choice.\r\n\r\nBy this time he was far down Meadow Lane, and the bell for school to\r\n“take up” tinkled faintly upon his ear. He sobbed, now, to think he\r\nshould never, never hear that old familiar sound any more—it was very\r\nhard, but it was forced on him; since he was driven out into the cold\r\nworld, he must submit—but he forgave them. Then the sobs came thick and\r\nfast.\r\n\r\nJust at this point he met his soul’s sworn comrade, Joe\r\nHarper—hard-eyed, and with evidently a great and dismal purpose in his\r\nheart. Plainly here were “two souls with but a single thought.” Tom,\r\nwiping his eyes with his sleeve, began to blubber out something about\r\na resolution to escape from hard usage and lack of sympathy at home by\r\nroaming abroad into the great world never to return; and ended by hoping\r\nthat Joe would not forget him.\r\n\r\nBut it transpired that this was a request which Joe had just been going\r\nto make of Tom, and had come to hunt him up for that purpose. His mother\r\nhad whipped him for drinking some cream which he had never tasted and\r\nknew nothing about; it was plain that she was tired of him and wished\r\nhim to go; if she felt that way, there was nothing for him to do but\r\nsuccumb; he hoped she would be happy, and never regret having driven her\r\npoor boy out into the unfeeling world to suffer and die.\r\n\r\nAs the two boys walked sorrowing along, they made a new compact to stand\r\nby each other and be brothers and never separate till death relieved\r\nthem of their troubles. Then they began to lay their plans. Joe was for\r\nbeing a hermit, and living on crusts in a remote cave, and dying,\r\nsome time, of cold and want and grief; but after listening to Tom, he\r\nconceded that there were some conspicuous advantages about a life of\r\ncrime, and so he consented to be a pirate.\r\n\r\nThree miles below St. Petersburg, at a point where the Mississippi River\r\nwas a trifle over a mile wide, there was a long, narrow, wooded island,\r\nwith a shallow bar at the head of it, and this offered well as a\r\nrendezvous. It was not inhabited; it lay far over toward the further\r\nshore, abreast a dense and almost wholly unpeopled forest. So Jackson’s\r\nIsland was chosen. Who were to be the subjects of their piracies was a\r\nmatter that did not occur to them. Then they hunted up Huckleberry Finn,\r\nand he joined them promptly, for all careers were one to him; he was\r\nindifferent. They presently separated to meet at a lonely spot on the\r\nriver-bank two miles above the village at the favorite hour—which was\r\nmidnight. There was a small log raft there which they meant to capture.\r\nEach would bring hooks and lines, and such provision as he could steal\r\nin the most dark and mysterious way—as became outlaws. And before the\r\nafternoon was done, they had all managed to enjoy the sweet glory of\r\nspreading the fact that pretty soon the town would “hear something.” All\r\nwho got this vague hint were cautioned to “be mum and wait.”\r\n\r\nAbout midnight Tom arrived with a boiled ham and a few trifles,\r\nand stopped in a dense undergrowth on a small bluff overlooking the\r\nmeeting-place. It was starlight, and very still. The mighty river lay\r\nlike an ocean at rest. Tom listened a moment, but no sound disturbed the\r\nquiet. Then he gave a low, distinct whistle. It was answered from under\r\nthe bluff. Tom whistled twice more; these signals were answered in the\r\nsame way. Then a guarded voice said:\r\n\r\n“Who goes there?”\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 1"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG2TRBE4240SZNP6ZT85FXMV","peer_label":"CHAPTER XIII","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":"01KG2TSH10ZZ0D7FA1R3G10E3T","peer_label":"Chunk 2","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-28T17:35:34.877Z","ts":"2026-01-28T17:35:37.270Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}