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"
Ah
—
I
won
‘
em
from
him
,
"
he
said
vaguely
.
"
Won
them
?
How
?
"
Dill
’
s
hand
sought
the
back
of
his
head
.
He
brought
it
forward
and
across
his
forehead
.
"
We
were
playin
’
strip
poker
up
yonder
by
the
fishpool
,
"
he
said
.
Jem
and
I
relaxed
.
The
neighbors
seemed
satisfied
:
they
all
stiffened
.
But
what
was
strip
poker
?
We
had
no
chance
to
find
out
:
Miss
Rachel
went
off
like
the
town
fire
siren
:
"
Do
-
o
-
o
Jee
-
sus
,
Dill
Harris
!
Gamblin
’
by
my
fishpool
?
I
’
ll
strip
-
poker
you
,
sir
!
"
Atticus
saved
Dill
from
immediate
dismemberment
.
"
Just
a
minute
,
Miss
Rachel
,
"
he
said
.
"
I
’
ve
never
heard
of
‘
em
doing
that
before
.
Were
you
all
playing
cards
?
"
Jem
fielded
Dill
’
s
fly
with
his
eyes
shut
:
"
No
sir
,
just
with
matches
.
"
I
admired
my
brother
.
Matches
were
dangerous
,
but
cards
were
fatal
.
"
Jem
,
Scout
,
"
said
Atticus
,
"
I
don
’
t
want
to
hear
of
poker
in
any
form
again
.
Go
by
Dill
’
s
and
get
your
pants
,
Jem
.
Settle
it
yourselves
.
"
"
Don
’
t
worry
,
Dill
,
"
said
Jem
,
as
we
trotted
up
the
sidewalk
,
"
she
ain
’
t
gonna
get
you
.
He
’
ll
talk
her
out
of
it
.
That
was
fast
thinkin
’
,
son
.
Listen
.
.
.
you
hear
?
"
