In a dream, I went to the kitchen. I brought him back some milk and half a pan of corn bread left over from supper. Dill devoured it, chewing with his front teeth, as was his custom.

I finally found my voice. Howd you get here?

By an involved route. Refreshed by food, Dill recited this narrative: having been bound in chains and left to die in the basement (there were basements in Meridian) by his new father, who disliked him, and secretly kept alive on raw field peas by a passing farmer who heard his cries for help (the good man poked a bushel pod by pod through the ventilator), Dill worked himself free by pulling the chains from the wall. Still in wrist manacles, he wandered two miles out of Meridian where he discovered a small animal show and was immediately engaged to wash the camel. He traveled with the show all over Mississippi until his infallible sense of direction told him he was in Abbott County, Alabama, just across the river from Maycomb. He walked the rest of the way.

Howd you get here? asked Jem.

He had taken thirteen dollars from his mothers purse, caught the nine oclock from Meridian and got off at Maycomb Junction. He had walked ten or eleven of the fourteen miles to Maycomb, off the highway in the scrub bushes lest the authorities be seeking him, and had ridden the remainder of the way clinging to the backboard of a cotton wagon. He had been under the bed for two hours, he thought; he had heard us in the diningroom, and the clink of forks on plates nearly drove him crazy. He thought Jem and I would never go to bed; he had considered emerging and helping me beat Jem, as Jem had grown far taller, but he knew Mr. Finch would break it up soon, so he thought it best to stay where he was. He was worn out, dirty beyond belief, and home.

They must now know youre here, said Jem. Wed know if they were lookin for you. . . .

Think theyre still searchin all the picture shows in Meridian. Dill grinned.

You oughta let your mother know where you are, said Jem. You oughta let her know youre here. . . .

Dills eyes flickered at Jem, and Jem looked at the floor. Then he rose and broke the remaining code of our childhood. He went out of the room and down the hall. Atticus, his voice was distant, can you come here a minute, sir?

Beneath its sweat-streaked dirt Dills face went white. I felt sick. Atticus was in the doorway.

He came to the middle of the room and stood with his hands in his pockets, looking down at Dill.

I finally found my voice: Its okay, Dill. When he wants you to know somethin, he tells you.

Dill looked at me. I mean its all right, I said. You know he wouldnt bother you, you know you aint scared of Atticus.

Im not scared . . . Dill muttered.

Just hungry, Ill bet. Atticuss voice had its usual pleasant dryness. Scout, we can do better than a pan of cold corn bread, cant we? You fill this fellow up and when I get back well see what we can see.

Mr. Finch, dont tell Aunt Rachel, dont make me go back, please sir! Ill run off again!

Whoa, son, said Atticus. Nobodys about to make you go anywhere but to bed pretty soon. Im just over to tell Miss Rachel youre here and ask her if you could spend the night with usyoud like that, wouldnt you? And for goodness sake put some of the county back where it belongs, the soil erosions bad enough as it is.

Dill stared at my fathers retreating figure.

Hes tryin to be funny, I said. He means take a bath. See there, I told you he wouldnt bother you.

Jem was standing in a corner of the room, looking like the traitor he was. Dill, I had to tell him, he said. You cant run three hundred miles off without your mother knowin.

We left him without a word.

Dill ate, and ate, and ate. He hadnt eaten since last night. He used all his money for a ticket, boarded the train as he had done many times, coolly chatted with the conductor, to whom Dill was a familiar sight, but he had not the nerve to invoke the rule on small children traveling a distance alone: if youve lost your money the conductor will lend you enough for dinner and your father will pay him back at the end of the line.

Dill made his way through the leftovers and was reaching for a can of pork and beans in the pantry when Miss Rachels Do-oo Je-sus went off in the hall. He shivered like a rabbit.