I stuck tight to the wall and kept mighty still, though quivery; and I wondered what them fellows would say to me if they catched me; and I tried to think what I'd better do if they did catch me.

But the king he got the bag before I could think more than about a half a thought, and he never suspicioned I was around.

They took and shoved the bag through a rip in the straw tick that was under the feather-bed, and crammed it in a foot or two amongst the straw and said it was all right now, because a nigger only makes up the feather-bed, and don't turn over the straw tick only about twice a year, and so it warn't in no danger of getting stole now.
But I knowed better.

I had it out of there before they was half-way down stairs.

I groped along up to my cubby, and hid it there till I could get a chance to do better.