Well, I let go all holts then, like I was shot. It was the most astonishing speech I ever heard and I'm bound to say Tom Sawyer fell considerable in my estimation. Only I couldn't believe it. Tom Sawyer a nigger-stealer!
Oh, shucks! I says; you're joking.
I ain't joking, either.
Well, then, I says, joking or no joking, if you hear anything said about a runaway nigger, don't forget to remember that you don't know nothing about him, and I don't know nothing about him.
Then we took the trunk and put it in my wagon, and he drove off his way and I drove mine. But of course I forgot all about driving slow on accounts of being glad and full of thinking; so I got home a heap too quick for that length of a trip. The old gentleman was at the door, and he says:
Why, this is wonderful! Whoever would a thought it was in that mare to do it? I wish we'd a timed her. And she hain't sweated a hair not a hair. It's wonderful. Why, I wouldn't take a hundred dollars for that horse now I wouldn't, honest; and yet I'd a sold her for fifteen before, and thought 'twas all she was worth.
That's all he said. He was the innocentest, best old soul I ever see. But it warn't surprising; because he warn't only just a farmer, he was a preacher, too, and had a little one-horse log church down back of the plantation, which he built it himself at his own expense, for a church and schoolhouse, and never charged nothing for his preaching, and it was worth it, too. There was plenty other farmer-preachers like that, and done the same way, down South.
In about half an hour Tom's wagon drove up to the front stile, and Aunt Sally she see it through the window, because it was only about fifty yards, and says:
Why, there's somebody come! I wonder who 'tis? Why, I do believe it's a stranger. Jimmy (that's one of the children)' run and tell Lize to put on another plate for dinner.
Everybody made a rush for the front door, because, of course, a stranger don't come every year, and so he lays over the yaller-fever, for interest, when he does come. Tom was over the stile and starting for the house; the wagon was spinning up the road for the village, and we was all bunched in the front door. Tom had his store clothes on, and an audience and that was always nuts for Tom Sawyer. In them circumstances it warn't no trouble to him to throw in an amount of style that was suitable. He warn't a boy to meeky along up that yard like a sheep; no, he come ca'm and important, like the ram. When he got a-front of us he lifts his hat ever so gracious and dainty, like it was the lid of a box that had butterflies asleep in it and he didn't want to disturb them, and says:
Mr. Archibald Nichols, I presume?
No, my boy, says the old gentleman, I'm sorry to say 't your driver has deceived you; Nichols's place is down a matter of three mile more. Come in, come in.
Tom he took a look back over his shoulder, and says, Too late he's out of sight.
Yes, he's gone, my son, and you must come in and eat your dinner with us; and then we'll hitch up and take you down to Nichols's.
Oh, I can't make you so much trouble; I couldn't think of it. I'll walk I don't mind the distance.
But we won't let you walk it wouldn't be Southern hospitality to do it. Come right in.
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