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Tom Sawyer, Detective                         167
We couldn't stir for a minute or two; then it was gone. We talked about it in low voices. Tom says:
"They're mostly dim and smoky, or like they're made out of fog, but this one wasn't."
" No," I says; "I seen the goggles and the whiskers perfectly plain."
"Yes, and the very colors in them loud countrified Sunday clothes — plaid breeches, green and black—"
"Cotton-velvet westcot, fire-red and yaller squares—"
" Leather straps to the bottoms of the breeches legs and one of them hanging unbuttoned—"
"Yes, and that hat—"
" What a hat for a ghost to wear!"
You see it was the first season anybody wore that kind — a black stiff-brim stove-pipe, very high, and not smooth, with a round top — just like a sugar-loaf.
" Did you notice if its hair was the same, Huck?"
" No — seems to me I did, then again it seems to me I didn't."
" I didn't either; but it had its bag along, I noticed that."
" So did I. How can there be a ghost-bag, Tom?"
" Sho! I wouldn't be as ignorant as that if I was you, Huck Finn. Whatever a ghost has, turns to ghost-stuff. They've got to have their things, like anybody else. You see, yourself, that its clothes was turned to ghost-stuff. Well, then, what's to hender its bag from turning, too? Of course it done it."
That was reasonable. I couldn't find no fault with