"Thomas Sawyer, where were you on the seventeenth of June, about the hour of midnight?"

     Tom glanced at Injun Joe's iron face and his tongue failed him. The audience listened breathless, but the words refused to come. After a few moments, however, the boy got a little of his strength back, and managed to put enough of it into his voice to make part of the house hear:

     "In the graveyard!"

     "A little bit louder, please. Don't be afraid. You were--"

     "In the graveyard."

     A contemptuous smile flitted across Injun Joe's face.

     "Were you anywhere near Horse Williams' grave?"

     "Yes, sir."

     "Speak up--just a trifle louder. How near were you?"

     "Near as I am to you."

     "Were you hidden, or not?"

     "I was hid."

     "Where?"