I just felt awful. We struck for the road and fetched the first men that come along. They got a spade at the crib and dug out the body, and you never see such an excitement. You couldn’t make anything out of the face, but you didn’t need to. Everybody said: 

 “Poor Jubiter; it’s his clothes, to the last rag!” 

 Some rushed off to spread the news and tell the justice of the peace and have an inquest, and me and Tom lit out for the house. Tom was all afire and ’most out of breath when we come tearing in where Uncle Silas and Aunt Sally and Benny was. Tom sung out: 

 “Me and Huck’s found Jubiter Dunlap’s corpse all by ourselves with a bloodhound, after everybody else had quit hunting and given it up; and if it hadn’t a been for us it never would ’a’ been found; and he was murdered too—they done it with a club or something like that; and I’m going to start in and find the murderer, next, and I bet I’ll do it!” 

 Aunt Sally and Benny sprung up pale and astonished, but Uncle Silas fell right forward out of his chair on to the floor and groans out: 

 “Oh, my God, you’ve found him Now!” 

 

CHAPTER X. THE ARREST OF UNCLE SILAS 

 Them awful words froze us solid. We couldn’t move hand or foot for as much as half a minute. Then we kind of come to, and lifted the old man up and got him into his chair, and Benny petted him and kissed him and tried to comfort him, and poor old Aunt Sally she done the same; but, poor things, they was so broke up and scared and knocked out of their right minds that they didn’t hardly know what they was about. With Tom it was awful; it ’most petrified him to think maybe he had got his uncle into a thousand times more trouble than ever, and maybe it wouldn’t ever happened if he hadn’t been so ambitious to get celebrated, and let the corpse alone the way the others done. But pretty soon he sort of come to himself again and says: 

 “Uncle Silas, don’t you say another word like that. It’s dangerous, and there ain’t a shadder of truth in it.” 

 Aunt Sally and Benny was thankful to hear him say that, and they said the same; but the old man he wagged his head sorrowful and hopeless, and the tears run down his face, and he says; 

 “No—I done it; poor Jubiter, I done it!” 

 It was dreadful to hear him say it. 

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