her　burst　or　melted。　His　undershirt　did　not　quite　catch　fire；　but　it　charred　and　smoke　poured　through　it　and　we　could　smell　his　chest…hair　roasting。　Behind　us；　people　were　heading　for　the　door　like　cattle　in　a　stampede。　They　couldn't　get　out　through　it；　of　course　…　we　were　in　a　damn　prison；　after　all　…　so　they　simply　clustered　around　it　while　Delacroix　fried　（Now　I'm　fryin；　Old　Toot　had　said　when　we　were　rehearsing　for　Arlen　Bitterbuck；　I'm　a　done　tom　turkey）　and　the　thunder　rolled　and　the　rain　ran　down　out　of　the　sky　in　a　perfect　fury。

At　some　point　I　thought　of　the　doc　and　looked　around　for　him。　He　was　still　there；　but　crumpled　on　the　floor　beside　his　black　bag。　He'd　fainted。

Brutal　came　up　and　stood　beside　me；　holding　the　fire　extinguisher。

〃Not　yet；〃　I　said。

〃I　know。〃

We　looked　around　for　Percy　and　saw　him　standing　almost　behind　Sparky　now；　frozen；　eyes　huge；　one　knuckle　crammed　into　his　mouth。

Then；　at　last；　Delacroix　slumped　back　in　the　chair；　his　bulging；　misshapen　face　lying　over　on　one　shoulder。　He　was　still　jittering；　but　we'd　seen　this　before；　it　was　the　current　running　through　him。　The　cap　had　e　askew　on　his　head；　but　when　we　took　it　off　a　little　later；　most　of　his　scalp　and　his　remaining　fringe　of　hair　came　with　it；　bonded　to　the　metal　as　if　by　some　powerful　adhesive。

〃Kill　it！〃　I　called　to　Jack　when　thirty　seconds　had　gone　by　with　nothing　but　electric　jitters　ing　from　the　smoking；　man…shaped　lump　of　charcoal　lolli