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〃Well； I don't like to be scared；〃 Bill rumbled； 〃and I work here； Wetmore； in case you didn't notice。 I ain't one of your lugoons。〃
Percy gave him a look that was narrow…eyed and a touch uncertain。
〃And we don't scare them any more than we have to； because they're under a lot of strain；〃 Dean said。 He was still keeping his voice low。 〃Men that are under a lot of strain can snap。 Hurt themselves。 Hurt others。 Sometimes get folks like us in trouble； too。〃
Percy's mouth twitched at that。 〃In trouble〃 was an idea that had power over him。 Making trouble was okay。 Getting into it was not。
〃Our job is talking； not yelling；〃 Dean said。 〃A man who is yelling at prisoners is a man who has lost control。〃
Percy knew who had written that scripture … me。
The boss。 There was no love lost between Percy Wetmore and Paul Edgebe； and this was still summer； remember … long before the real festivities started。
〃You'll do better；〃 Dean said； 〃if you think of this place as like an intensive…care ward in a hospital。 It's best to be quiet……！〃
〃I think of it as a bucket of piss to drown rats in；〃 Percy said； 〃and that's all。 Now let me go。〃
He tore free of Dean's hand； stepped between him and Bill； and stalked up the corridor with his head down。 He walked a little too close to The President's side … close enough so that Flanders could have reached out； grabbed him； and maybe headwhipped him with his own prized hickory baton； had Fland
