got them to go ashore and leave me alone. But he was made different. He
said it was a whole fortune and he couldn't bear the idea.

Twice we stopped to fix the machinery and laid a good while, once in the
night; but it wasn't dark enough, and he was afeard to skip. But the
third time we had to fix it there was a better chance. We laid up at a
country woodyard about forty mile above Uncle Silas's place a little
after one at night, and it was thickening up and going to storm. So Jake
he laid for a chance to slide. We begun to take in wood. Pretty soon
the rain come a-drenching down, and the wind blowed hard. Of course
every boat-hand fixed a gunny sack and put it on like a bonnet, the way
they do when they are toting wood, and we got one for Jake, and he
slipped down aft with his hand-bag and come tramping forrard just like
the rest, and walked ashore with them, and when we see him pass out of
the light of the torch-basket and get swallowed up in the dark, we got
our breath again and just felt grateful and splendid. But it wasn't for
long. Somebody told, I reckon; for in about eight or ten minutes them
two pals come tearing forrard as tight as they could jump and darted
ashore and was gone. We waited plumb till dawn for them to come back,
and kept hoping they would, but they never did. We was awful sorry and
low-spirited. All the hope we had was that Jake had got such a start that
they couldn't get on his track, and he would get to his brother's and
hide there and be safe.

He was going to take the river road, and told us to find out if Brace and
Jubiter was to home and no strangers there, and then slip out about
sundown and tell him. Said he would wait for us in a little bunch of
sycamores right back of Tom's uncle Silas's tobacker field on the river
road, a lonesome place.