IN A DILEMMA.
335
"Why, who's that?"
"Who do you reckon 't is?"
"I hain't no idea. Who is it?"
"It's Tom Sawyer!"
By jings, I most slumped though the floor. But there
"WHO DO YOU RECKON 'T IS?"
warn't no time to swap knives; the old man grabbed me by the hand and shook, and kept on shaking; and all the time, how the woman did dance around and laugh and cry; and then how they both did fire off questions about Sid, and Mary, and the rest of the tribe.
But if they was joyful, it warn't nothing to what I was; for
