The first time I got Tom alone, I asked him what he had planned to do if the escape worked. He said we would take Jim down the river on the raft and have adventures all the way to the sea. Then we would tell him he was free and take him back home on a steamboat, in style, and pay him for his lost time, and the whole town would march him in with torches and a brass band. He would be a hero, and so would we. But I thought it was just as well the way it was.
We had Jim out of his chains in no time. When the family heard how well he had helped the doctor take care of Tom, they made a great fuss over him and gave him everything he wanted to eat. Tom gave him forty dollars for being such a patient prisoner, and Jim was so pleased he almost burst.
“There, Huck, what did I tell you on Jackson’s Island? I told you I have a hairy chest, and that it means I’ll be rich. And now it has come true! Signs are signs, I tell you!”
Then Tom said we should all three go on adventures in the Indian Territory for a couple of weeks. I said I had no money. Pap had probably come back by now, taken it all from Judge Thatcher and drunk it.
“No, he hasn’t,” Tom said. “It’s all still there, six thousand dollars and more. And your father hasn’t come back since.”
Jim said, very seriously, “He isn’t coming back, Huck.”
“Why, Jim?”
“Do you remember the house that was floating down the river? There was a dead man in there, and I covered his face and didn’t let you look. Well, you can get your money when you want it, because that was him.”
Tom is almost well now. He wears his bullet on a chain around his neck like a watch, and he is always looking at it to see what time it is. So there is nothing more to write about, and I am very glad, because if I had known how much trouble it is to write a book, I wouldn’t have started. But I think I have to go to the Territory before the others, because Aunt Sally is going to adopt me and civilize me, and I can’t stand it. I’ve been there before.
The end. Yours truly, Huck Finn.