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those days） were put on the watch。 So the boys found other diversions
until the Patterollers did not watch any more； then they planned a grand
coup that would eclipse anything before attempted in the stone…rolling
line。
A rock about the size of an omnibus was lying up there； in a good
position to go down hill； once； started。 They decided it would be a
glorious thing to see that great boulder go smashing down； a hundred
yards or so in front of some unsuspecting and peaceful…minded church…
goer。 Quarrymen were getting out rock not far away； and left their picks
and shovels over Sundays。 The boys borrowed these； and went to work to
undermine the big stone。 It was a heavier job than they had counted on；
but they worked faithfully； Sunday after Sunday。 If their parents had
wanted them to work like that； they would have thought they were being
killed。
Finally one Sunday； while they were digging； it suddenly got loose and
started down。 They were not quite ready for it。 Nobody was coming but
an old colored man in a cart； so it was going to be wasted。 It was not
quite wasted； however。 They had planned for a thrilling result； and
there was thrill enough while it lasted。 In the first place； the stone
nearly caught Will Bowen when it started。 John Briggs had just that
moment quit digging and handed Will the pick。 Will was about to step
into the excavation when Sam Clemens； who was already there； leaped out
with a yell：
〃Look out； boys； she's coming！〃
She came。 The huge stone kept to the ground at first； then； gathering a
wild momentum； it went bounding into the air。 About half…way down the
hill it struck a tree several inches through and cut it clean off。 This
turned its course a little； and the negro in the cart； who heard the
noise； saw it come crashing in his direction and made a wild effort to
whip up his horse。 It was also headed toward a cooper…shop across the
road。 The boys watched it with growing interest。 It made longer leaps
with every bound； and whenever it struck the fragments the dust would
fly。 They were certain it would demolish the negro and destroy the
cooper…shop。 The shop was empty； it being Sunday； but the rest of the
catastrophe would invite close investigation； with results。 They wanted
to fly； but they could not move until they saw the rock land。 It was
making mighty leaps now； and the terrified negro had managed to get
directly in its path。 They stood holding their breath； their mouths
open。 Then suddenly they could hardly believe their eyes； the boulder
struck a projection a distance above the road； and with a mighty bound
sailed clear over the negro and his mule and landed in the soft dirt
beyond…only a fragment striking the shop； damaging but not wrecking it。
Half buried in the ground； that boulder lay there for nearly forty years；
then it was blasted up for milling purposes。 It was the last rock the
boys ever rolled down。 They began to suspect that the sport was not
altogether safe。
Sometimes the boys needed money； which was not easy to get in those days。
On one occasion of this sort； Tom Blankenship had the skin of a coon he
had captured； which represented the only capital in the crowd。 At
Selms's store on Wild Cat corner the coonskin would bring ten cents； but
that was not enough。 They arranged a plan which would make it pay a good
deal more than that。 Selins's window was open； it being summer…time； and
his pile of pelts was pretty handy。 Huckthat is to say； Tomwent in
the front door and sold the skin for ten cents to Selms； who tossed it
back on the pile。 Tom came back with the money and after a reasonable
period went around to the open window； crawled in； got the coonskin； and
sold it to Selms again。 He did this several times that afternoon； then
John Pierce； Selins's clerk； said：
〃Look here； Selms； there is something wrong about this。 That boy has
been selling us coonskins all the afternoon。〃
Selms went to his pile of pelts。 There were several sheepskins and some
cowhides； but only one coonskinthe one he had that moment bought。
Selms himself used to tell this story as a great joke。
Perhaps it is not adding to Mark Twain's reputation to say that the boy
Sam Clemensa pretty small boy； a good deal less than twelve at this
timewas the leader of this unhallowed band； yet any other record would
be less than historic。 If the band had a leader； it was he。 They were
always ready to listen to himthey would even stop fishing to do that
and to follow his projects。 They looked to him for ideas and
organization； whether the undertaking was to be real or make…believe。
When they played 〃Bandit〃 or 〃Pirate〃 or 〃Indian；〃 Sam Clemens was always
chief； when they became real raiders it is recorded that he was no less
distinguished。 Like Tom Sawyer； he loved the glare and trappings of
leadership。 When the Christian Sons of Temperance came along with a
regalia； and a red sash that carried with it rank and the privilege of
inventing pass…words； the gaud of these things got into his eyes； and he
gave up smoking （which he did rather gingerly） and swearing （which he did
only under heavy excitement）； also liquor （though he had never tasted it
yet）； and marched with the newly washed and pure in heart for a full
montha month of splendid leadership and servitude。 Then even the red
sash could not hold him in bondage。 He looked up Tom Blankenship and
said：
〃Say； Tom； I'm blamed tired of this！ Let's go somewhere and smoke！〃
Which must have been a good deal of a sacrifice； for the uniform was a
precious thing。
Limelight and the center of the stage was a passion of Sam Clemens's
boyhood； a love of the spectacular that never wholly died。 It seems
almost a pity that in those far…off barefoot old days he could not have
looked down the years to a time when； with the world at his feet；
venerable Oxford should clothe him in a scarlet gown。
He could not by any chance have dreamed of that stately honor。 His
ambitions did not lie in the direction of mental achievement。 It is true
that now and then； on Friday at school； he read a composition； one of
whicha personal burlesque on certain older boyscame near resulting in
bodily damage。 But any literary ambition he may have had in those days
was a fleeting thing。 His permanent dream was to be a pirate； or a
pilot； or a bandit； or a trapper…scout； something gorgeous and active；
where his wordhis nod； evenconstituted sufficient law。 The river
kept the pilot ambition always fresh； and the cave supplied a background
for those other things。
The cave was an enduring and substantial joy。 It was a real cave； not
merely a hole； but a subterranean marvel of deep passages and vaulted
chambers that led away into bluffs and far down into the earth's black
silences； even below the river； some said。 For Sam Clemens the cave had
a fascination that never faded。 Other localities and diversions might
pall； but any mention of the cave found him always eager and ready for
the three…mile walk or pull that brought them to its mystic door。 With
its long corridors； its royal chambers hung with stalactites； its remote
hiding…places； its possibilities as