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“Now what’s the use of all that? If it’s anybody, and they’re up there, let them
stay there-who cares? If they want to jump down, now, and get into trouble,
who objects? It will be dark in fifteen minutes-and then let them follow us if
they want to. I’m willing. In my opinion, whoever hove those things in here
caught a sight of us and took us for ghosts or devils or something. I’ll bet they’re
running yet.” Joe grumbled a while; then he agreed with his friend that what
daylight was left ought to be economized in getting things ready for leaving.
Shortly afterward they slipped out of the house in the deepening twilight, and
moved toward the river with their precious box.

Tom and Huck rose up, weak but vastly relieved, and stared after them through
the chinks between the logs of the house. Follow? Not they. They were content to
reach ground again without broken necks, and take the townward track over the
hill. They did not talk much. They were too much absorbed in hating
themselves-hating the ill luck that made them take the spade and the pick there.
But for that, Injun Joe never would have suspected. He would have hidden the
silver with the gold to wait there till his “revenge” was satisfied, and then he
would have had the misfortune to find that money turn up missing. Bitter, bitter
luck that the tools were ever brought there!

They resolved to keep a lookout for that Spaniard when he should come to town
spying out for chances to do his revengeful job, and follow him to “Number
Two,” wherever that might be. Then a ghastly thought occurred to Tom:
“Revenge? What if he means us, Huck!” “O, don’t!” said Huck, nearly fainting.
They talked it all over, and as they entered town they agreed to believe that he
might possibly mean somebody else-at least that he might at least mean nobody
but Tom, since only Tom had testified.

Very, very small comfort it was to Tom to be alone in danger! Company would
be a palpable improvement, he thought.