much--only just a word once in a while when a body had to say something
or bust, we was so scared and worried. The night dragged along slow and
lonesome. We was pretty low down, and the moonshine made everything soft
and pretty, and the farmhouses looked snug and homeful, and we could hear
the farm sounds, and wished we could be down there; but, laws! we just
slipped along over them like a ghost, and never left a track.

Away in the night, when all the sounds was late sounds, and the air had a
late feel, and a late smell, too--about a two-o'clock feel, as near as I
could make out--Tom said the professor was so quiet this time he must be
asleep, and we'd better--

"Better what?" I says in a whisper, and feeling sick all over, because I
knowed what he was thinking about.

"Better slip back there and tie him, and land the ship," he says.

I says: "No, sir! Don' you budge, Tom Sawyer."

And Jim--well, Jim was kind o' gasping, he was so scared. He says:

"Oh, Mars Tom, DON'T! Ef you teches him, we's gone--we's gone sho'! I
ain't gwine anear him, not for nothin' in dis worl'. Mars Tom, he's plumb
crazy."

Tom whispers and says--"That's WHY we've got to do something. If he
wasn't crazy I wouldn't give shucks to be anywhere but here; you couldn't
hire me to get out--now that I've got used to this balloon and over the
scare of being cut loose from the solid ground--if he was in his right
mind. But it's no good politics, sailing around like this with a person