So I got
the false whiskers and the goggles and this countrified
suit of clothes, and fetched them along back in a hand-
bag; and when I was passing a shop where they sell all
sorts of things, I got a glimpse of one of my pals
through the window. It was Bud Dixon. I was glad,
you bet. I says to myself, I'll see what he buys. So
I kept shady, and watched. Now what do you reckon
it was he bought?"
"Whiskers?" said I.
"No."
"Goggles?"
"No."
"Oh, keep still, Huck Finn, can't you, you're only
just hendering all you can. What WAS it he bought,
Jake?"
"You'd never guess in the world. It was only just
a screwdriver -- just a wee little bit of a screwdriver."
"Well, I declare! What did he want with that?"
"That's what I thought. It was curious. It clean
stumped me. I says to myself, what can he want with
that thing? Well, when he come out I stood back out
of sight, and then tracked him to a second-hand slop-
shop and see him buy a red flannel shirt and some old
ragged clothes -- just the ones he's got on now, as
you've described. Then I went down to the wharf and
hid my things aboard the up-river boat that we had
picked out, and then started back and had another
streak of luck. I seen our other pal lay in HIS stock
of old rusty second-handers. We got the di'monds
and went aboard the boat.
"But now we was up a stump, for we couldn't go
to bed.
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