TOM was a glittering hero once more -- the pet of the old, the envy of the young. His name even went into immortal print, for the village paper magnified him. There were some that believed he would be President, yet, if he escaped hanging.

As usual, the fickle, unreasoning world took Muff Potter to its bosom and fondled him as lavishly as it had abused him before. But that sort of conduct is to the world's credit; therefore it is not well to find fault with it.

Tom's days were days of splendor and exultation to him, but his nights were seasons of horror. Injun Joe infested all his dreams, and always with doom in his eye. Hardly any temptation could persuade the boy to stir abroad after nightfall. Poor Huck was in the same state of wretchedness and terror, for Tom had told the whole story to the lawyer the night before the great day of the trial, and Huck was sore afraid that his share in the business might leak out, yet, notwithstanding Injun Joe's flight had saved him the suffering of testifying in court. The poor fellow had got the attorney to promise secrecy, but what of that? Since Tom's harassed conscience had managed to drive him to the lawyer's house by night and wring a dread tale from lips that had been sealed with the dismalest and most formidable of oaths, Huck's confidence in the human race was well-nigh obliterated.

Daily Muff Potter's gratitude made Tom glad he had spoken; but nightly he wished he had sealed up his tongue.

Half the time Tom was afraid Injun Joe would never be captured; the other half he was afraid he would be. He felt sure he never could draw a safe breath again until that man was dead and he had seen the corpse.

Rewards had been offered, the country had been scoured, but no Injun Joe was found. One of those omniscient and awe-inspiring marvels, a detective, came up from St. Louis, moused around, shook his head, looked wise, and made that sort of astounding success which members of that craft usually achieve. That is to say, he "found a clew." But you can't hang a "clew" for murder, and so after that detective had got through and gone home, Tom felt just as insecure as he was before.

The slow days drifted on, and each left behind it a slightly lightened weight of apprehension.

汤姆又一次成为众人瞩目的英雄——长辈们宠爱他，同伴们羡慕他。他的名字见了报，
获得了永生，镇上的报纸大肆宣扬了他的事迹。有些人相信，只要他不被绞死，将来总有一
天会当总统。
    那些喜怒无常、没有脑子的人们，又像往常一样，把莫夫·波特当作老伙计，对他非常
亲密友好，那股热情劲儿就和当初他们起劲地凌辱他一样。但这种行为毕竟还是人类的美
德，因此，我们还是不要去吹毛求疵吧。
    汤姆白天过得神气十足，得意洋洋，可晚上全是在恐怖之中度过的。印第安·乔老是出
现在他的梦里，而且目露凶光。天黑以后，无论多么大的诱惑也无法吸引这个孩子再走出家
门。可怜的哈克也处于同样的不幸与恐怖之中。汤姆在开庭审理这个案子的头一天，已经把
全部事实经过告诉了律师。虽然印第安·乔的逃跑使他免于出庭作证，但是，他还是极度害
怕，害怕自己与这个案子有牵连的事会泄露出去。可怜的小家伙已经让律师向他保证，要替
他保守秘密，可那又有什么用？汤姆的嘴原本已被可怕而庄严的誓词封住了，后来由于受到
良心的折磨，他便在夜晚去律师家，把那可怕的经历抖露了出来。既然这样，哈克对人类的
信任就几乎荡然无存了。
    在白天，莫夫·波特的感谢使汤姆很高兴自己能说出事实真相；可是，一到晚上，他就
懊悔自己未能封住舌头，守口如瓶。
    有一段时间，汤姆惟恐印第安·乔永远逍遥法外；另一半时间，他又害怕他被捕。他深
深感到，除非等这个人死了，让他亲眼看见他那具尸体，否则，他将永无宁日。
    法院悬出赏，整个地区都搜遍了，可就是没揪住印第安·乔。从圣路易斯那些神通广
大、令人敬畏的非凡人物中，派来了一名侦探。他四处调查，摇头晃脑，看起来颇为不凡，
还像他的同行们一样，取得了惊人的进展。那就是说，他“找到了线索”。但是，你总不能
把“线索”当作杀人犯拉来绞死。
    所以在这位侦探完成任务回去之后，汤姆觉得和从前一样，没有安全感。
    漫长的日子一天、一天地熬过来，每过一天，这种恐惧的心理负担就相应地稍稍减轻一
点