Then they come out and locked him up. I hoped they was going to say he
could have one or two of the chains took off, because they was rotten
heavy, or could have meat and greens with his bread and water; but
they didn't think of it, and I reckoned it warn't best for me to mix
in, but I judged I'd get the doctor's yarn to Aunt Sally somehow or
other as soon as I'd got through the breakers that was laying just
ahead of me--explanations, I mean, of how I forgot to mention about
Sid being shot when I was telling how him and me put in that dratted
night paddling around hunting the runaway nigger.

But I had plenty time. Aunt Sally she stuck to the sick-room all day
and all night, and every time I see Uncle Silas mooning around I
dodged him.

Next morning I heard Tom was a good deal better, and they said Aunt
Sally was gone to get a nap. So I slips to the sick-room, and if I
found him awake I reckoned we could put up a yarn for the family that
would wash. But he was sleeping, and sleeping very peaceful, too; and
pale, not fire-faced the way he was when he come. So I set down and
laid for him to wake. In about half an hour Aunt Sally comes gliding
in, and there I was, up a stump again! She motioned me to be still,
and set down by me, and begun to whisper, and said we could all be
joyful now, because all the symptoms was first-rate, and he'd been
sleeping like that for ever so long, and looking better and peacefuler
all the time, and ten to one he'd wake up in his right mind.

So we set there watching, and by and by he stirs a bit, and opened his
eyes very natural, and takes a look, and says:

"Hello!--why, I'm at _home!_ How's that? Where's the raft?"

"It's all right," I says.

"And _Jim?_"

"The same," I says, but couldn't say it pretty brash. But he never
noticed, but says:

"Good! Splendid! _Now_ we're all right and safe! Did you tell Aunty?"

I was going to say yes; but she chipped in and says:

"About what, Sid?"

"Why, about the way the whole thing was done."

"What whole thing?"

"Why, _the_ whole thing. There ain't but one; how we set the runaway
nigger free--me and Tom."

"Good land! Set the run--What _is_ the child talking about! Dear,
dear, out of his head again!"

"_No_, I ain't out of my HEAD; I know all what I'm talking about. We
_did_ set him free--me and Tom. We laid out to do it, and we _done_
it. And we done it elegant, too." He'd got a start, and she never
checked him up, just set an