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Las aventuras de Tom Sawyer
Capítulo 23, Página 4
“And
they’d
do
it,
too.”
The
boys
had
a
long
talk,
but
it
brought
them
little
comfort.
As
the
twilight
drew
on,
they
found
themselves
hanging
about
the
neighborhood
of
the
little
isolated
jail,
perhaps
with
an
undefined
hope
that
something
would
happen
that
might
clear
away
their
difficulties.
But
nothing
happened;
there
seemed
to
be
no
angels
or
fairies
interested
in
this
luckless
captive.
The
boys
did
as
they
had
often
done
before—went
to
the
cell
grating
and
gave
Potter
some
tobacco
and
matches.
He
was
on
the
ground
floor
and
there
were
no
guards.
His
gratitude
for
their
gifts
had
always
smote
their
consciences
before—it
cut
deeper
than
ever,
this
time.
They
felt
cowardly
and
treacherous
to
the
last
degree
when
Potter
said:
“You’ve
been
mighty
good
to
me,
boys—better’n
anybody
else
in
this
town.
And
I
don’t
forget
it,
I
don’t.
Often
I
says
to
myself,
says
I,
‘I
used
to
mend
all
the
boys’
kites
and
things,
and
show
’em
where
the
good
fishin’
places
was,
and
befriend
’em
what
I
could,
and
now
they’ve
all
forgot
old
Muff
when
he’s
in
trouble;
but
Tom
don’t,
and
Huck
don’t—they
don’t
forget
him,’
says
I,
‘and
I
don’t
forget
them.’
Well,
boys,
I
done
an
awful
thing—drunk
and
crazy
at
the
time—that’s
the
only
way
I
account
for
it—and
now
I
got
to
swing
for
it,
and
it’s
right.
Right,
and
best,
too,
I
reckon—hope
so,
anyway.
Well,
we
won’t
talk
about
that.
I
don’t
want
to
make
you
feel
bad;
you’ve
befriended
me.
But
what
I
want
to
say,
is,
don’t
you
ever
get
drunk—then
you
won’t
ever
get
here.
Stand
a
litter
furder
west—so—that’s
it;
it’s
a
prime
comfort
to
see
faces
that’s
friendly
when
a
body’s
in
such
a
muck
of
trouble,
and
there
don’t
none
come
here
but
yourn.
Good
friendly
faces—good
friendly
faces.
Git
up
on
one
another’s
backs
and
let
me
touch
’em.
That’s
it.
Shake
hands—yourn’ll
come
through
the
bars,
but
mine’s
too
big.
Little
hands,
and
weak—but
they’ve
helped
Muff
Potter
a
power,
and
they’d
help
him
more
if
they
could.”
Tom
went
home
miserable,
and
his
dreams
that
night
were
full
of
horrors.
The
next
day
and
the
day
after,
he
hung
about
the
courtroom,
drawn
by
an
almost
irresistible
impulse
to
go
in,
but
forcing
himself
to
stay
out.
Huck
was
having
the
same
experience.
They
studiously
avoided
each
other.
Each
wandered
away,
from
time
to
time,
but
the
same
dismal
fascination
always
brought
them
back
presently.
Tom
kept
his
ears
open
when
idlers
sauntered
out
of
the
courtroom,
but
invariably
heard
distressing
news—the
toils
were
closing
more
and
more
relentlessly
around
poor
Potter.
At
the
end
of
the
second
day
the
village
talk
was
to
the
effect
that
Injun
Joe’s
evidence
stood
firm
and
unshaken,
and
that
there
was
not
the
slightest
question
as
to
what
the
jury’s
verdict
would
be.
Tom
was
out
late,
that
night,
and
came
to
bed
through
the
window.
He
was
in
a
tremendous
state
of
excitement.
It
was
hours
before
he
got
to
sleep.
All
the
village
flocked
to
the
courthouse
the
next
morning,
for
this
was
to
be
the
great
day.
Both
sexes
were
about
equally
represented
in
the
packed
audience.
After
a
long
wait
the
jury
filed
in
and
took
their
places;
shortly
afterward,
Potter,
pale
and
haggard,
timid
and
hopeless,
was
brought
in,
with
chains
upon
him,
and
seated
where
all
the
curious
eyes
could
stare
at
him;
no
less
conspicuous
was
Injun
Joe,
stolid
as
ever.
There
was
another
pause,
and
then
the
judge
arrived
and
the
sheriff
proclaimed
the
opening
of
the
court.
The
usual
whisperings
among
the
lawyers
and
gathering
together
of
papers
followed.
These
details
and
accompanying
delays
worked
up
an
atmosphere
of
preparation
that
was
as
impressive
as
it
was
fascinating.
Now
a
witness
was
called
who
testified
that
he
found
Muff
Potter
washing
in
the
brook,
at
an
early
hour
of
the
morning
that
the
murder
was
discovered,
and
that
he
immediately
sneaked
away.
After
some
further
questioning,
counsel
for
the
prosecution
said:
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Las aventuras de Tom Sawyer — C1 Inglés | Cuentana