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           Shegotnoanswer,andsheshouted,"Mr.Nathan,Mr.Arthur,maddog’scomin’!Maddog’scomin’!"

           "She’ssupposedtogoaroundinback,"Isaid.

           Jemshookhishead."Don’tmakeanydifferencenow,"hesaid.

           Calpurniapoundedonthedoorinvain.Nooneacknowledgedherwarning;nooneseemedtohaveheardit.

           AsCalpurniasprintedtothebackporchablackFordswungintothedriveway.AtticusandMr.HeckTategotout.

           Mr.HeckTatewasthesheriffofMaycombCounty.HewasastallasAtticus,butthinner.Hewaslong-nosed,worebootswithshinymetaleye-holes,bootpantsandalumberjacket.Hisbelthadarowofbulletsstickinginit.Hecarriedaheavyrifle.WhenheandAtticusreachedtheporch,Jemopenedthedoor.

           "Stayinside,son,"saidAtticus."Whereishe,Cal?"

           "Heoughtabeherebynow,"saidCalpurnia,pointingdownthestreet.

           "Notrunnin’,ishe?"askedMr.Tate.

           "Nawsir,he’sinthetwitchin’stage,Mr.Heck."

           "Shouldwegoafterhim,Heck?"askedAtticus.

           "Webetterwait,Mr.Finch.Theyusuallygoinastraightline,butyounevercantell.Hemightfollowthecurve—hopehedoesorhe’llgostraightintheRadleybackyard.Let’swaitaminute."