Mark TwainThere comes a time in every rightly constructed boy’S life when hehas a raging desire to go somewhere and dig for hidden treasure·This de—sire suddenlv came upon Tom one day．He sallied out to find Joe Harper，but failed of success．Next he sought Ben Rogers；he had gone fishing．Presentlv he stumbled upon Huck Finn the Red—Handed．HuckwOuld answer．Tom took him to a private place and opened the matter tohim cOnfidentially．Huck was willing．Huck was always willing to take a hand in any enterprise that offered entertainment and required no capital，for he had a troublesome superabundance of that sort of time which is notmoney．“Where’11 we dig？”said Huck．
“Oh．most anywhere．”
“Why，is it hid all around？’’
“No．indeed it ain’t．It’s hid in mighty particular places，Huck—sometimes On islands，sometimes in rotten chests under the end of a limb of an old dead tree，j ust where the shadow falls at midnight；but mostly under the floor in haunted houses．”
“Who hides it？”
“Whv，robbers，of course--who’d you reckon？Sunday—school suDerintendents？"
“I don’t know．If‘twas mine 1 wouldn’t hide it：I’d spend it and have a good time．’’
“So would I．But robbers don’t do that way．They always hide itand leave it there．”
“Don’t they come after it any more？’’
“No，they think they will，but they generally forget the marks，or else they die．Anyway，it lays there a long time and gets rusty；and by and by somebody finds an old yellow paper that tells how to find the marks——a paper that’S got to be ciphered over about a week because it’s nlostlv signs and hieroglyphics．’’
“HyroQwhich？”
“Hieroglyphics--pictures and things，you know，that don’t seem to mean anything．’’
“Have you got one of them papers，Tom？’’
“No．”
“Well then，how you going to find the marks？’’
“I don’t want any marks．They always bury it under a ha’nted house or on an island，or under a dead tree that’s got one limb sticking out·Well，we’ve tried Jackson’S Island a little，and we canⅡy it again some time；and there’S the old ha’nted house up the Still—House branch，and there’S lots of deadlimb trees—dead loads of‘em．，，
“Is it under all of them？”
“How you talk！No！”
“Then how you going to know which one to go for？”
“Go for all of‘em！”
“Why，Tom．it’1l take all SUmmer．’’“Well，what of that？Suppose you find a brass pot with a hun&；eddollars in it，a11 rusty and gray，or rotten chest full of diamonds．How’Sthat？”
Huck’S eyes glowed．
“That’S bully．Plenty bully enough for me．Just you gimme the hun—dred dollars and I don’t want no diamonds．”“All fight．But I bet you I ain’t going to throw off on diamonds．Some of them’S worth twenty dollars apiece一一mere ain’t any，hardly，but worth six bits or a dollar．”
“No！Is that so？”
“Certainly--anybody’11 tell you SO．Haven’t you ever seen one．Huck？”
“Not as I remember．”
“Oh．kings have slathers of them．’’
“Well．I don’know no kings，Tom．’’
“I reckon you don’t．But if you was to go to Europe you’d see araft of‘em hopping around．’’
“Do they hop？”
“Hop？一your granny！No！”
“Well，what did you say they did，for？”
“Shucks．I only meant you’d see them—not hopping，of course—what do they want to hop for？一but I mean you’djust see them--scat—tered around，you know，in a kind of a general way．Like that old hump—backed Richard．’’
“Richard？What’S his other name？’’
“He didn’t have any other name．Kings don’t have any but a givenname．’’
“No？”
“But they don’t．’’
“Well，if they like it，Tom，all right；but I don’t want to be a kingand have only just a given name，like a nigger．But say—where you go—ing to dig first？”
“Well，I don’t know．Spose we tackle that old dead—limb tree onthe hill t’other side of Still—House branch？”
“I’m agreed．”
So they got a crippled pick and a shovel，and set out on their three—mile tramp．They anfved hot and panting，and threw themselves down inthe shade of a neighboring elm to rest and have a smoke．
“I like this，”said Tom．
“So do I．”
“Say，Huck，if we find a treasure here，what you going to do withyour share？”
“Well，I’11 have pie and a glass of soda every day，and I’11 go toevery circus that comes along．I bet I’11 have a gay time．”
“Well，ain’t you going to save any of it？’’
“Save it？What for？”
“Why，SO as to have something to live on，by and by．”
“Oh。that ain’t any use．Pap would come back to thish—yer townsome day and get his claws on it if I didn’t hurry up，and I tell you he’d clean it out pretty quick．What you going to do with youm，Tom？’’
“I’m going tO buy a new drum，and a sure--nough sword，and a rednecktie and a bull pup，and get married．’’
“Married！”
“That’S it．”
“Tom，you—why，you ain’t in your right mind．”
“Wait—you’11 see．”
“Well，that’S the foolishest thing you could do．Look at pap and mymother．Fight！Why，they used to fight all the time．I remember，mightywell．’’“That ain’t anything．The girl I’m going to marry won’t fight．’’“Tom．I reckon they’re all alike．They’11 all comb a body．Nowyou better think about this awhile．I tell you better．What’S the name ofthe gal？”‘‘It ain’t a gal at all—it’S a girl．”“It’s all the same，I reckon；some says gal，some says girl—bOth’Sright，like enough．Anyway，what’S her name，Tom？’’“I’ll tell you some time—nOt nOW．”“All ri曲t—that’11 do．Only if you get married I’11 be more lone—some than ever．”
“No you won’t．You’11 come and live with me．Now stir out ofthisand we’11 go to digging．’’They worked and sweated for half an hour．No result．They toiled another half—hour．Still no result．Huck said：
“Do they always bury it as deep as this？”
“Sometimes--not always．Not generally．I reckon we haven’t gotthe fight place．”So they chose a new spot and began again．The labor dragged a lit—tIe．but still they made progress．They pegged away in silence for sometime．
Finally Huck leaned on his shovel，swabbed the beaded drODs frOmhis brow with his sleeve，and said：
“Where you going to dig next，after we get this one？’’
“I reckon maybe we’11 tackle the Old tree that’S over yonder onCardiff Hill back of the widow’S．”
“I reckon that’11 be a good one．But won’t the widow take it awayfrom 1．IS，Tom？It’S on her land．’’
“She take it away！Maybe she’d like tO try it once．Whoever findsone of these hid treasures，it belongs to him．It don’t make any differencewhose land it’S on．”
That was satisfactory．The work went on．By and by Huck said：
“Blame it，we must be in the wrong place again．What do youthink？”
“It is mighty curious，Huck．I don’t understand it．Soreetimes wit—ches interfere．I reckon maybe that’S what’S the trouble nOw．，，
“Shucks！Witches ain’t got no power in the daytime．’’
“Well，that’S SO．I didn’t think of that．Oh，I know what the matteris！What a blamed lot of fools we are！You got to find out where theshadow of the limb falls at midnight．and that’s where you dig！’’
