“Come up!” I shouts; “come up, Tom!”
His voice was so weak, and the wind roared so, I couldn’t make out what he said, but I thought he asked was the professor up there. I shouts:
“No, he’s down in the ocean! Come up! Can we help you?”
Of course, all this in the dark.
“Huck, who is you hollerin’ at?”
“I’m hollerin’ at Tom.”
“Oh, Huck, how kin you act so, when you know po’ Mars Tom—” Then he let off an awful scream, and flung his head and his arms back and let off another one, because there was a white glare just then, and he had raised up his face just in time to see Tom’s, as white as snow, rise above the gunnel and look him right in the eye. He thought it was Tom’s ghost, you see.
Tom clumb aboard, and when Jim found it was him, and not his ghost, he hugged him, and called him all sorts of loving names, and carried on like he was gone crazy, he was so glad. Says I:
“What did you wait for, Tom? Why didn’t you come up at first?”
“I dasn’t, Huck. I knowed somebody plunged down past me, but I didn’t know who it was in the dark. It could ’a’ been you, it could ’a’ been Jim.”