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           Duboseinherwheelchair—"Stopthatrapping,JohnTaylor,Iwanttoaskthismansomething."Perhapsourforefatherswerewise.

           Atticuswassaying,"Withpeoplelikeus—that’sourshareofthebill.Wegenerallygetthejurieswedeserve.OurstoutMaycombcitizensaren’tinterested,inthefirstplace.Inthesecondplace,they’reafraid.Then,they’re—"

           "Afraid,why?"askedJem.

           "Well,whatif—say,Mr.LinkDeashadtodecidetheamountofdamagestoaward,say,MissMaudie,whenMissRachelranoverherwithacar.Linkwouldn’tlikethethoughtoflosingeitherlady’sbusinessathisstore,wouldhe?SohetellsJudgeTaylorthathecan’tserveonthejurybecausehedoesn’thaveanybodytokeepstoreforhimwhilehe’sgone.SoJudgeTaylorexcuseshim.Sometimesheexcuseshimwrathfully."

           "What’dmakehimthinkeitheroneof‘em’dstoptradingwithhim?"Iasked.

           Jemsaid,"MissRachelwould,MissMaudiewouldn’t.Butajury’svote’ssecret,Atticus."

           Ourfatherchuckled."You’vemanymoremilestogo,son.Ajury’svote’ssupposedtobesecret.Servingonajuryforcesamantomakeuphismindanddeclarehimselfaboutsomething.Mendon’tliketodothat.Sometimesit’sunpleasant."

           "Tom’sjurysho’madeupitsmindinahurry,"Jemmuttered.

           Atticus’sfingerswenttohiswatchpocket."Noitdidn’t,"hesaid,moretohimselfthantous."Thatwastheonethingthatmademethink,well,thismaybetheshadowofabeginning.Thatjurytookafewhours.