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Chapter 8
"Seethere,he’snotworriedyet,"saidJem.
"Whyain’theontopofoneofthehouses?"
"He’stooold,he’dbreakhisneck."
"Youthinkweoughtamakehimgetourstuffout?"
"Let’sdon’tpesterhim,he’llknowwhenit’stime,"saidJem.
TheAbbottsvillefiretruckbeganpumpingwateronourhouse;amanontheroofpointedtoplacesthatneededitmost.IwatchedourAbsoluteMorphoditegoblackandcrumble;MissMaudie’ssunhatsettledontopoftheheap.Icouldnotseeherhedge-clippers.Intheheatbetweenourhouse,MissRachel’sandMissMaudie’s,themenhadlongagoshedcoatsandbathrobes.Theyworkedinpajamatopsandnightshirtsstuffedintotheirpants,butIbecameawarethatIwasslowlyfreezingwhereIstood.Jemtriedtokeepmewarm,buthisarmwasnotenough.Ipulledfreeofitandclutchedmyshoulders.Bydancingalittle,Icouldfeelmyfeet.
AnotherfiretruckappearedandstoppedinfrontofMissStephanieCrawford’s.Therewasnohydrantforanotherhose,andthementriedtosoakherhousewithhandextinguishers.
MissMaudie’stinroofquelledtheflames.Roaring,thehousecollapsed;firegushedeverywhere,followedbyaflurryofblanketsfrommenontopoftheadjacenthouses,beatingoutsparksandburningchunksofwood.
Itwasdawnbeforethemenbegantoleave,firstonebyone,theningroups.TheypushedtheMaycombfiretruckbacktotown,theAbbottsvilletruckdeparted,thethirdoneremained.WefoundoutnextdayithadcomefromClark’sFerry,sixtymilesaway.
