"You stay here, Huck, till I come."
Tom was off at once.
He did not care to have Huck's company in public places.
He was gone half an hour.
He found that in the best tavern, No. 2 had long been occupied by a young lawyer, and was still so occupied.
In the less ostentatious house, No. 2 was a mystery. The tavern-keeper's young son said it was kept locked all the time, and he never saw anybody go into it or come out of it except at night; he did not know any particular reason for this state of things; had had some little curiosity, but it was rather feeble; had made the most of the mystery by entertaining himself with the idea that that room was "ha'nted"; had noticed that there was a light in there the night before.
"That's what I've found out, Huck.
I reckon that's the very No. 2 we're after."
"I reckon it is, Tom.
Now what you going to do?"
"Lemme think."
Tom thought a long time.
Then he said:
"I'll tell you.
The back door of that No. 2 is the door that comes out into that little close alley between the tavern and the old rattle trap of a brick store.
Now you get hold of all the door-keys you can find, and I'll nip all of auntie's, and the first dark night we'll go there and try 'em.
And mind you, keep a lookout for Injun Joe, because he said he was going to drop into town and spy around once more for a chance to get his revenge.
If you see him, you just follow him; and if he don't go to that No. 2, that ain't the place."
"Lordy, I don't want to foller him by myself!"
"Why, it'll be night, sure.
He mightn't ever see you--and if he did, maybe he'd never think anything."
"Well, if it's pretty dark I reckon I'll track him.
I dono--I dono.
I'll try."
"You bet I'll follow him, if it's dark, Huck.
Why, he might 'a' found out he couldn't get his revenge, and be going right after that money."
"It's so, Tom, it's so.
I'll foller him; I will, by jingoes!"
"Now you're TALKING!
Don't you ever weaken, Huck, and I won't."
CHAPTER XXVIII
THAT night Tom and Huck were ready for their adventure.
They hung about the neighborhood of the tavern until after nine, one watching the alley at a distance and the other the tavern door.
Nobody entered the alley or left it; nobody resembling the Spaniard entered or left the tavern door.
The night promised to be a fair one; so Tom went home with the understanding that if a considerable degree of darkness came on, Huck was to come and "maow," whereupon he would slip out and try the keys.
But the night remained clear, and Huck closed his watch and retired to bed in an empty sugar hogshead about twelve.
Tuesday the boys had the same ill luck.
Also Wednesday.
But Thursday night promised better.
Tom slipped out in good season with his aunt's old tin lantern, and a large towel to blindfold it with.
He hid the lantern in Huck's sugar hogshead and the watch began.
An hour before midnight the tavern closed up and its lights (the only ones thereabouts) were put out.
No Spaniard had been seen.
Nobody had entered or left the alley.
Everything was auspicious.
The blackness of darkness reigned, the perfect stillness was interrupted only by occasional mutterings of distant thunder.
Tom got his lantern, lit it in the hogshead, wrapped it closely in the towel, and the two adventurers crept in the gloom toward the tavern.
Huck stood sentry and Tom felt his way into the alley.
Then there was a season of waiting anxiety that weighed upon Huck's spirits like a mountain.
He began to wish he could see a flash from the lantern--it would frighten him, but it would at least tell him that Tom was alive yet.