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Naw, we better wait till they get in, Atticus might not like it if he sees us.
Let's go in.
Jem, are those the Ewells sittin' down younder?
Hush, Mr. Heck Tate's testifyin'.
... In your own words, Mr. Tate.
Well, I was called--
Could you say it to the jury, Mr. Tate? Thank you. Who called you?
I was fetched by Bob -- by Mr. Bob Ewell yonder, one night--
It was the night of November twenty-first, I was just leaving my office to go home when B-Mr. Ewell came in, very excited he was, and said get out to his house quick, some negro'd raped his girl.
What night, sir?
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