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           Hismouthwasslightlyopen,andhelookedatJemfromheadtofoot.Boo’shandcameup,butheletitdroptohisside.

           "Youcanpethim,Mr.Arthur,he’sasleep.Youcouldn’tifhewasawake,though,hewouldn’tletyou..."Ifoundmyselfexplaining."Goahead."

           Boo’shandhoveredoverJem’shead.

           "Goon,sir,he’sasleep."

           HishandcamedownlightlyonJem’shair.

           IwasbeginningtolearnhisbodyEnglish.Hishandtightenedonmineandheindicatedthathewantedtoleave.

           Iledhimtothefrontporch,wherehisuneasystepshalted.Hewasstillholdingmyhandandhegavenosignoflettingmego.

           "Willyoutakemehome?"

           Healmostwhisperedit,inthevoiceofachildafraidofthedark.

           Iputmyfootonthetopstepandstopped.Iwouldleadhimthroughourhouse,butIwouldneverleadhimhome.

           "Mr.Arthur,bendyourarmdownhere,likethat.That’sright,sir."

           Islippedmyhandintothecrookofhisarm.

           Hehadtostoopalittletoaccommodateme,butifMissStephanieCrawfordwaswatchingfromherupstairswindow,shewouldseeArthurRadleyescortingmedownthesidewalk,asanygentlemanwoulddo.

           Wecametothestreetlightonthecorner,andIwonderedhowmanytimesDillhadstoodtherehuggingthefatpole,watching,waiting,hoping.IwonderedhowmanytimesJemandIhadmadethisjourney,butIenteredtheRadleyfrontgateforthesecondtimeinmylife.BooandIwalkedupthestepstotheporch.Hisfingersfoundthefrontdoorknob.