Убить пересмешника

           "Doyoureallythinkyouwanttomovethere,Scout?"Bam,bam,bam,andthecheckerboardwassweptcleanofmymen."Doyoureallythinkthat,son?Thenreadthis."JemwouldstruggletherestofaneveningthroughthespeechesofHenryW.Grady.

           "Link,thatboymightgotothechair,buthe’snotgoingtillthetruth’stold."Atticus’svoicewaseven."Andyouknowwhatthetruthis."

           Therewasamurmuramongthegroupofmen,mademoreominouswhenAtticusmovedbacktothebottomfrontstepandthemendrewnearertohim.

           SuddenlyJemscreamed,"Atticus,thetelephone’sringing!"

           Themenjumpedalittleandscattered;theywerepeoplewesaweveryday:merchants,in-townfarmers;Dr.Reynoldswasthere;sowasMr.Avery.

           "Well,answerit,son,"calledAtticus.

           Laughterbrokethemup.WhenAtticusswitchedontheoverheadlightinthelivingroomhefoundJematthewindow,paleexceptforthevividmarkofthescreenonhisnose.

           "Whyonearthareyouallsittinginthedark?"heasked.

           Jemwatchedhimgotohischairandpickuptheeveningpaper.IsometimesthinkAtticussubjectedeverycrisisofhislifetotranquilevaluationbehindTheMobileRegister,TheBirminghamNewsandTheMontgomeryAdvertiser.

           "Theywereafteryou,weren’tthey?"Jemwenttohim."Theywantedtogetyou,didn’tthey?"

           AtticusloweredthepaperandgazedatJem."Whathaveyoubeenreading?"heasked.Thenhesaidgently,"Noson,thosewereourfriends."