They pushed the Maycomb fire truck back to town, the Abbottsville truck departed, the third one remained.
We found out next day it had come from Clark’s Ferry, sixty miles away. Jem and I slid across the street.
Miss Maudie was staring at the smoking black hole in her yard, and Atticus shook his head to tell us she did not want to talk.
He led us home, holding onto our shoulders to cross the icy street.
He said Miss Maudie would stay with Miss Stephanie for the time being.
“Anybody want some hot chocolate?” he asked. I shuddered when Atticus started a fire in the kitchen stove.
As we drank our cocoa I noticed Atticus looking at me, first with curiosity, then with sternness.
I thought I told you and Jem to stay put,” he said. “Why, we did. We stayed—”
“Then whose blanket is that?” “Blanket?” “Yes ma’am, blanket. It isn’t ours.”
I looked down and found myself clutching a brown woolen blanket I was wearing around my shoulders, squaw-fashion.
“Atticus, I don’t know, sir… I—” I turned to Jem for an answer, but Jem was even more bewildered than I.
He said he didn’t know how it got there, we did exactly as Atticus had told us,
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