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His
lower
lip
pooched
out
.
Bill
Dodge
and
his
men
were
moving
boxes
and
stacks
of
sheets
,
even
the
beds
;
the
whole
infirmary
was
going
to
a
new
frame
building
over
on
the
west
side
of
the
prison
.
Hot
work
,
heavy
lifting
.
Percy
Wetmore
wanted
no
part
of
either
.
"
They
got
all
the
men
they
need
,
"
he
said
.
"
Then
get
over
there
and
straw-boss
,
"
I
said
,
raising
my
voice
.
I
saw
Harry
wince
and
paid
no
attention
.
If
the
governor
ordered
Warden
Moores
to
fire
me
for
ruffling
the
wrong
set
of
feathers
,
who
was
Hal
Moores
going
to
put
in
my
place
?
Percy
?
It
was
a
joke
.
"
I
really
do
n't
care
what
you
do
,
Percy
,
as
long
as
you
get
out
of
here
for
awhile
.
"
For
a
moment
I
thought
he
was
going
to
stick
and
there
'd
be
real
trouble
,
with
Coffey
standing
there
the
whole
time
like
the
world
's
biggest
stopped
clock
.
Then
Percy
rammed
his
billy
back
into
its
hand-tooled
holster-foolish
damned
vanitorious
thing
--
and
went
stalking
up
the
corridor
.
I
do
n't
remember
which
guard
was
sitting
at
the
duty
desk
that
day
--
one
of
the
floaters
,
I
guess
--
but
Percy
must
not
have
liked
the
way
he
looked
,
because
he
growled
,
"
You
wipe
that
smirk
off
your
shitepoke
face
or
I
'll
wipe
it
off
for
you
"
as
he
went
by
.
There
was
a
rattle
of
keys
,
a
momentary
blast
of
hot
sunlight
from
the
exercise
yard
,
and
then
Percy
Wetmore
was
gone
,
at
least
for
the
time
being
.
Delacroix
's
mouse
ran
back
and
forth
from
one
of
the
little
Frenchman
's
shoulders
to
the
other
,
his
filament
whiskers
twitching
.
"
Be
still
,
Mr.
Jingles
,
"
Delacroix
said
,
and
the
mouse
stopped
on
his
left
shoulder
just
as
if
he
had
understood
.
"
Just
be
so
still
and
so
quiet
.
"
In
Delacroix
's
lilting
Cajun
accent
,
quiet
came
out
sounding
exotic
and
foreign
--
kwaht
.
"
You
go
lie
down
,
Del
,
"
I
said
curtly
.
"
Take
you
a
rest
.
This
is
none
of
your
business
,
either
.
"
He
did
as
I
said
.
He
had
raped
a
young
girl
and
killed
her
,
and
had
then
dropped
her
body
behind
the
apartment
house
where
she
lived
,
doused
it
with
coal-oil
,
and
then
set
it
on
fire
,
hoping
in
some
muddled
way
to
dispose
of
the
evidence
of
his
crime
.
The
fire
had
spread
to
the
building
itself
,
had
engulfed
it
,
and
six
more
people
had
died
,
two
of
them
children
.
It
was
the
only
crime
he
had
in
him
,
and
now
he
was
just
a
mild-mannered
man
with
a
worried
face
,
a
bald
pate
,
and
long
hair
straggling
over
the
back
of
his
shirt-collar
.
He
would
sit
down
with
Old
Sparky
in
a
little
while
,
and
Old
Sparky
would
make
an
end
to
him
...
but
whatever
it
was
that
had
done
that
awful
thing
was
already
gone
,
and
now
he
lay
on
his
bunk
,
letting
his
little
companion
run
squeaking
over
his
hands
.
In
a
way
,
that
was
the
worst
;
Old
Sparky
never
burned
what
was
inside
them
,
and
the
drugs
they
inject
them
with
today
do
n't
put
it
to
sleep
.
It
vacates
,
jumps
to
someone
else
,
and
leaves
us
to
kill
husks
that
are
n't
really
alive
anyway
.
I
turned
my
attention
to
the
giant
.
