of a dead cat being around, and I bet I do, there was sixty-four of them went in.  I shoved in there for a minute, but it was too various for me; I couldn't stand it.  Well, when the place couldn't hold no more people the duke he give a fellow a quarter and told him to tend door for him a minute, and then he started around for the stage door, I after him; but the minute we turned the corner and was in the dark he says: “Walk fast now till you get away from the houses, and then shin for the raft like the dickens was after you!” I done it, and he done the same.  We struck the raft at the same time, and in less than two seconds we was gliding down stream, all dark and still, and edging towards the middle of the river, nobody saying a word. I reckoned the poor king was in for a gaudy time of it with the audience, but nothing of the sort; pretty soon he crawls out from under the wigwam, and says: “Well, how'd the old thing pan out this time, duke?”  He hadn't been up-town at all. We never showed a light till we was about ten mile below the village. Then we lit up and had a supper, and the king and the duke fairly laughed their bones loose over the way they'd served them people.  The duke says: “Greenhorns, flatheads!  I knew the first house would keep mum and let the rest of the town get roped in; and I knew they'd lay for us the third night, and consider it was _their_ turn now.  Well, it _is_ their turn, and I'd give something to know how much they'd take for it.  I _would_ just like to know how they're putting in their opportunity.  They can turn it into a picnic if they want to--they brought plenty provisions.” Them rapscallions took in four hundred and sixty-five dollars in that three nights.  I never see money hauled in by the wagon-load like that before.  By and by, when they was asleep and snoring, Jim says: “Don't it s'prise you de way dem kings carries on, Huck?” “No,” I says, “it don't.” “Why don't it, Huck?” “Well, it don't, because it's in the bre