reflections grew oppressive. He must force some talk. So he said in a whisper:
“Hucky, do you believe the dead people like it for us to be here?”
Huckleberry whispered:
“I wisht I knowed. It’s awful solemn like, ain’t it?”
“I bet it is.”
There was a considerable pause, while the boys canvassed this matter inwardly. Then Tom whispered:
“Say, Hucky — do you reckon Hoss Williams hears us talking?”
“O’ course he does.
Least his sperrit does.”
Tom, after a pause: