Joe thought about his mother.

“Maybe it’s time to go home,” Joe suggested timidly.

Tom and Huck didn’t want to go back. But Tom couldn’t help thinking about poor Aunt Polly. He had to tell her that he was all right.

After Huck and Joe were asleep, Tom scribbled a note to Aunt Polly on a piece of bark. He rowed across the river and ran along alleys until he came to his aunt’s house.

A dim light was burning in the window. Tom saw Aunt Polly and Mrs. Harper in the sitting room.

Tom quietly lifted the latch and crept inside. He crawled under his aunt’s bed. From there he could see and hear everything going on in the sitting room.

“What is making the candle flicker like that?” asked Aunt Polly. “Why, the door is open.” She got up to close it.

“Strange things are happening,” said Mrs. Harper. Her eyes were swollen from crying. She clutched a handkerchief in her hands.

“I hope my Tom’s better off in heaven,” said Aunt Polly. “He wasn’t a bad boy. He never meant any harm. He was the best-hearted boy that ever was.”

Aunt Polly started to cry. Tom felt awful. Aunt Polly was worried sick about him.

“My Joe was the same way,” agreed Mrs. Harper. “He was always up to mischief, but just as kind and unselfish as he could be. To think I punished him for taking the cream. I forgot I threw it out because it was sour!

“Now I’ll never see my poor dear boy again in this world, never, never.”

Mrs. Harper broke down sobbing.

“I know just how you feel, Mrs. Harper,” said Aunt Polly, patting her neighbor on the hand. “Just yesterday I was forcing Pain-killer down Tom’s throat. The poor boy went wild with the awful stuff. God forgive me! Oh, my poor dead boy.”

This last memory was too much for the old lady. She broke down and wept. Under the bed, Tom sniffled a little too.

Soon Mrs. Harper said good night. Aunt Polly knelt beside her bed to say her prayers.