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"
Nothing
.
Curtains
.
There
’
s
a
little
teeny
light
way
off
somewhere
,
though
.
"
"
Let
’
s
get
away
from
here
,
"
breathed
Jem
.
"
Let
’
s
go
‘
round
in
back
again
.
Sh
-
h
,
"
he
warned
me
,
as
I
was
about
to
protest
.
"
Let
’
s
try
the
back
window
.
"
"
Dill
,
no
,
"
I
said
.
Dill
stopped
and
let
Jem
go
ahead
.
When
Jem
put
his
foot
on
the
bottom
step
,
the
step
squeaked
.
He
stood
still
,
then
tried
his
weight
by
degrees
.
The
step
was
silent
.
Jem
skipped
two
steps
,
put
his
foot
on
the
porch
,
heaved
himself
to
it
,
and
teetered
a
long
moment
.
He
regained
his
balance
and
dropped
to
his
knees
.
He
crawled
to
the
window
,
raised
his
head
and
looked
in
.
Then
I
saw
the
shadow
.
It
was
the
shadow
of
a
man
with
a
hat
on
.
At
first
I
thought
it
was
a
tree
,
but
there
was
no
wind
blowing
,
and
tree
-
trunks
never
walked
.
The
back
porch
was
bathed
in
moonlight
,
and
the
shadow
,
crisp
as
toast
,
moved
across
the
porch
toward
Jem
.
Dill
saw
it
next
.
He
put
his
hands
to
his
face
.
When
it
crossed
Jem
,
Jem
saw
it
.
He
put
his
arms
over
his
head
and
went
rigid
.
The
shadow
stopped
about
a
foot
beyond
Jem
.
Its
arm
came
out
from
its
side
,
dropped
,
and
was
still
.
Then
it
turned
and
moved
back
across
Jem
,
walked
along
the
porch
and
off
the
side
of
the
house
,
returning
as
it
had
come
.
Jem
leaped
off
the
porch
and
galloped
toward
us
.
He
flung
open
the
gate
,
danced
Dill
and
me
through
,
and
shooed
us
between
two
rows
of
swishing
collards
.
Halfway
through
the
collards
I
tripped
;
as
I
tripped
the
roar
of
a
shotgun
shattered
the
neighborhood
.
