Silence, for a minute.

     "Tom, if we'd 'a' left the blame tools at the dead tree, we'd 'a' got the money. Oh, ain't it awful!"

     "'Tain't a dream, then, 'tain't a dream! Somehow I most wish it was. Dog'd if I don't, Huck."

     "What ain't a dream?"

     "Oh, that thing yesterday. I been half thinking it was."

     "Dream! If them stairs hadn't broke down you'd 'a' seen how much dream it was! I've had dreams enough all night--with that patch-eyed Spanish devil going for me all through 'em--rot him!"

     "No, not rot him. Find him! Track the money!"

     "Tom, we'll never find him. A feller don't have only one chance for such a pile--and that one's lost. I'd feel mighty shaky if I was to see him, anyway."

     "Well, so'd I; but I'd like to see him, anyway--and track him out--to his Number Two."