Oh, Tom, this is awful." Some vague figures approached through the gloom, swinging an old-fashioned tin lantern that freckled the ground with innumerable little spangles of light.

Presently Huckleberry whispered with a shudder: "It's the devils sure enough.

Three of 'em! Lordy, Tom, we're goners! Can you pray ?" "I'll try, but don't you be afeard.

They ain't going to hurt us.

'Now I lay me down to sleep, I--'" "Sh!" "What is it, Huck ?" "They're HUMANS! One of 'em is, anyway.