Tom got out a bit of paper and carefully unrolled it. Huckleberry viewed it wistfully. The temptation was very strong. At last he said:
"Is it genuwyne?"
Tom lifted his lip and showed the vacancy.
"Well, all right," said Huckleberry, "it's a trade."
Tom enclosed the tick in the percussion-cap box that had lately been the pinchbug's prison, and the boys separated, each feeling wealthier than before.
When Tom reached the little isolated frame school-house, he strode in briskly, with the manner of one who had come with all honest speed.
He hung his hat on a peg and flung himself into his seat with business-like alacrity.
The master, throned on high in his great splint-bottom arm-chair, was dozing, lulled by the drowsy hum of study.
The interruption roused him.
"Thomas Sawyer!"