It was a lovely dog. There ain’t any dog that’s got a lovelier disposition than a bloodhound, and this one knowed us and liked us. He capered and raced around ever so friendly, and powerful glad to be free and have a holiday; but Tom was so cut up he couldn’t take any intrust in him, and said he wished he’d stopped and thought a minute before he ever started on such a fool errand. He said old Jeff Hooker would tell everybody, and we’d never hear the last of it. So we loafed along home down the back lanes, feeling pretty glum and not talking. When we was passing the far corner of our tobacker field we heard the dog set up a long howl in there, and we went to the place and he was scratching the ground with all his might, and every now and then canting up his head sideways and fetching another howl. [Illustration: Fetching another howl.] It was a long square, the shape of a grave; the rain had made it sink down and show the shape. The minute we come and stood there we looked at one another and never said a word. When the dog had dug down only a few inches he grabbed something and pulled it up, and it was an arm and a sleeve. Tom kind of gasped out, and says: “Come away, Huck—it’s found.” I just felt awful. We struck for the road and fetched the first men that come along. They got a spade at the crib and dug out the body, and you never see such an excitement. You couldn’t make anything out of the face, but you didn’t need to. Everybody said: “Poor Jubiter; it’s his clothes, to the last rag!” Some rushed off to spread the news and tell the justice of the peace and have an inquest, and me and Tom lit out for the house. Tom was all afire and ’most out of breath when we come tearing in where Uncle Silas and Aunt Sally and Benny was. Tom sung out: “Me and Huck’s found Jubiter Dunlap’s corpse all by ourselves with a bloodhound, after everybody else had quit hunting and given it up; and if it hadn’t a been for us it never _would_ ’a’ been found; and he _was_ murdered too—they done it with a club or something like that; and I’m going to start in and find the murderer, next, and I bet I’ll do it!” Aunt Sally and Benny sprung up pale and astonished, but Uncle Silas fell right forward out of his chair on to the floor and groans out: “Oh, my God, you’ve found him _Now!_” CHAPTER X. THE ARREST OF UNCLE SILAS