pen door of his cell and pointing at Percy。 The mouse was back on his shoulder； and Delacroix looked like a small but malevolent male witch； plete with imp。
〃Lookit him； he done piss his pants！〃 Delacroix howled。 〃Lookit what the big man done！ Bus' other people wid 'is stick； mais oui some mauvais homme； but when someone touch him； he make water in 'is pants jus' like a baby！〃
He laughed and pointed； all his fear and hatred of Percy ing out in that derisive laughter。 Percy stared at him； seemingly incapable of moving or speaking。 Wharton stepped back to the bars of his cell； looked down at the dark splotch on the front of Percy's trousers … it was small but it was there； and no question about what it was … and grinned。 〃Somebody ought to buy the tough boy a didy；〃 he said； and went back to his bunk； chuffing laughter。
Brutal went down to Delacroix's cell； but the Cajun had ducked inside and thrown himself on his bunk before Brutal could get there。
I reached out and grasped Percy's shoulder。 〃Percy…〃 I began； but that was as far as I got。 He came to life； shaking my hand off。 He looked down at the front of his pants； saw the spot spreading there； and blushed a dark； fiery red。 He looked up at me again； then at Harry and Dean。 I remember being glad that Old Toot…Toot was gone。 If he'd been around； the story would have been all over the prison in a single day。 And； given Percy's last name…an unfortunate one； in this context … it was a story that would