ow　badly　Percy　had　hurt　him？　Or　that　John　…　who　really　did　have　some　kind　of　hypnotic　power；　there　was　no　doubt　of　that　much；　at　least　…　had　somehow　fooled　us　into　thinking　we'd　seen　something　we　hadn't　seen　at　all？　Then　there　was　the　matter　of　Hal　Moores。　On　the　day　I'd　surprised　him　in　his　office；　I'd　encountered　a　palsied；　weepy　old　man。　But　I　didn't　think　that　was　the　truest　side　of　the　warden。　I　thought　the　real　Warden　Moores　was　the　man　who'd　once　broken　the　wrist　of　a　skatehound　who　tried　to　stab　him；　the　man　who　had　pointed　out　to　me　with　cynical　accuracy　that　Delacroix's　nuts　were　going　to　cook　no　matter　who　was　out　front　on　the　execution　team。　Did　I　think　that　Hal　Moores　would　stand　meekly　aside　and　let　us　bring　a　convicted　child…murderer　into　his　house　to　lay　hands　on　his　wife？

My　doubt　grew　like　a　sickness　as　we　rode　along。　I　simply　did　not　understand　why　I　had　done　the　things　I　had；　or　why　I'd　persuaded　the　others　to　go　along　with　me　on　this　crazy　night　journey；　and　I　did　not　believe　we　had　a　chance　of　getting　away　with　it　…　not　a　hound's　chance　of　heaven；　as　the　oldtimers　used　to　say。　Yet　I　made　no　effort　to　cry　it　off；　either；　which　I　might　have　been　able　to　do；　things　wouldn't　pass　irrevocably　out　of　our　hands　until　we　showed　up　at　Moores's　house。　Something　…　I　think　it　might　have　been　no　more　than　the　waves　of　exhilaration　ing　off　the　giant　sitting　next　to　me　…　kept　me　from　hammering　on　top　of　the　cab　and　yelling　at　Harry　to　turn　around　and　go　back　to