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           Wehadnotgonefivepacesbeforehemademestopagain.

           "Jem,areyoutryin’toscareme?YouknowI’mtooold—"

           "Bequiet,"hesaid,andIknewhewasnotjoking.

           Thenightwasstill.Icouldhearhisbreathcomingeasilybesideme.Occasionallytherewasasuddenbreezethathitmybarelegs,butitwasallthatremainedofapromisedwindynight.Thiswasthestillnessbeforeathunderstorm.Welistened.

           "Heardanolddogjustthen,"Isaid.

           "It’snotthat,"Jemanswered."Ihearitwhenwe’rewalkin’along,butwhenwestopIdon’thearit."

           "Youhearmycostumerustlin’.Aw,it’sjustHalloweengotyou...."

           IsaiditmoretoconvincemyselfthanJem,forsureenough,aswebeganwalking,Iheardwhathewastalkingabout.Itwasnotmycostume.

           "It’sjustoldCecil,"saidJempresently."Hewon’tgetusagain.Let’sdon’tlethimthinkwe’rehurrying."

           Weslowedtoacrawl.IaskedJemhowCecilcouldfollowusinthisdark,lookedtomelikehe’dbumpintousfrombehind.

           "Icanseeyou,Scout,"Jemsaid.

           "How?Ican’tseeyou."

           "Yourfatstreaksareshowin’.Mrs.Crenshawpainted‘emwithsomeofthatshinystuffsothey’dshowupunderthefootlights.Icanseeyouprettywell,an’IexpectCecilcanseeyouwellenoughtokeephisdistance."

           IwouldshowCecilthatweknewhewasbehindusandwewerereadyforhim."CecilJacobsisabigwethe-en!"Iyelledsuddenly,turningaround.

           Westopped.