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."
"Number Two--yes, that's it. I been thinking 'bout that. But I can't
make nothing out of it. What do you reckon it is?"
"I dono. It's too deep. Say, Huck--maybe it's the number of a house!"
"Goody! ... No, Tom, that ain't it. If it is, it ain't in this
one-horse town. They ain't no numbers here."
"Well, that's so. Lemme think a minute. Here--it's the number of a
room--in a tavern, you know!"
"Oh, that's the trick! They ain't only two taverns. We can find out
quick."
"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.
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