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Detta was gone like a dream； and Susannah looked from the smoking gun to the tiny； sprawled figure on the sidewalk with surprise； horror； and dismay。 〃Oh； my Jesus！ I shot him！ Eddie； I shot him！〃
〃Grays 。 。 。 die！〃
Little Lord Fauntleroy tried to scream these words defiantly； but they came out in a bubbling choke of blood that drenched the few remaining white patches on his frilly shirt。 There was a muffled explosion from inside the overgrown plaza of the corner building； and the shaggy carpets of green stuff hanging in front of the arches billowed outward like flags in a brisk gale。 With them came clouds of choking； acrid smoke。 Eddie flung himself on top of Susannah to shield her； and felt a gritty shower of concrete fragments…all small ones； luckily…patter down on his back； his neck； and the crown of his head。 There was a series of unpleasantly wet smacking sounds to his left。 He opened his eyes a crack； looked in that direction； and saw Little Lord Fauntleroy's head just …ing to a stop in the gutter。 The dwarf's eyes were still open； his mouth still fixed in its final snarl。
Now there were other voices； some shrieking； some yelling； all furi…ous。 Eddie rolled off Susannah's chair…it tottered on one wheel before deciding to stay up…and stared in the direction from which the dwarf had e。 A ragged mob of about twenty men and women had appeared； some ing from around the corner； others pushing through the mats of foliage which obscured the corner building's arches； materializing from the smoke of the dwarf's grenade like evil spirits。 Most were wearing blue headscarves and all were carrying weapons…a varied （and somehow pitiful） assortment of them which included rusty swords； dull knives； and splintery clubs。 Eddie saw one man defiantly waving a hammer。 Pubes； Eddie thought。 We interrupted their necktie party； and they're pissed as hell about it。
A tangle of shouts…Kill the Grays！ Kill them both！ They've done for Luster； God kill their eyes！…arose from this charming group as they caught sight of Susannah in her wheelchair and Eddie； who was now crouched on one knee before it。 The man in the forefront was wearing a kilt…like wrap and waving a cutlass。 He brandished this wildly （he would have decapitated the heavyset woman standing close behind him； had she not ducked） and then charged。 The others followed； yelling happily。
Roland's gun pounded its bright thunder into the windy； overcast day； and the top of the kilt…wearing Pube's head lifted off。 The sallow skin of the woman who had almost been decapitated by his cutlass was suddenly stippled with red rain and she voiced a sound of barking dismay。 The others came on past the woman and the dead man； raving and wild…eyed。
〃Eddie！〃 Susannah screamed； and fired again。 A man wearing a silk…lined cape and knee…boots collapsed into the street。
Eddie groped for the' Ruger and had one panicky moment when he thought he had lost it。 The butt of the gun had somehow slipped down inside the waistband of his pants。 He wrapped his hand around it and yanked hard。 The fucking thing wouldn't e。 The sight at the end of the barrel had somehow gotten stuck in his underwear。
Susannah fired three closely spaced shots。 Each found a target； but the oning Pubes didn't slow。
〃Eddie； help me！〃
Eddie tore his pants open； feeling like some cut…rate version of Superman； and finally managed to free the Ruger。 He hit the safety with the heel of his left palm； placed his elbow on his leg just above the knee； and began to fire。 There was no need to think…no need to even aim。 Roland had told them that in battle a gunslinger's hands worked on their own； and Eddie now discovered it was true。 It would have been hard for a blind man to miss at this range； anyway。 Susannah had cut the numbers of the charging Pubes to no more than fifteen； Eddie went through the remainder like a storm wind in a wheatfield； dropping four in less than two seconds。
Now the single face of the mob； that look of glazed and mindless eagerness； began to break apart。 The man with the hammer abruptly tossed his weapon aside and ran for it； limping extravagantly on a pair of arthritis…twisted legs。 He was followed by two others。 The rest of them milled uncertainly in the street。
〃e on； you deucies！〃 a relatively young man snarled。 He wore his blue scarf around his throat like a rally…racer's ascot。 He was bald except for two fluffs of frizzy red hair； one on each side of his head。 To Susannah； this fellow looked like Clarabell the Clown； to Eddie he looked like Ronald McDonald； to both of them he looked like trouble。 He threw a home…made spear that might have started life as a steel tableleg。 It clattered harmlessly into the street to Eddie and Susannah's right。 〃e on； I say！ We can get em if we all stick togeth…〃
〃Sorry； guy；〃 Eddie murmured； and shot him in the chest。
Clarabell/Ronald staggered backward； one hand going to his shirt。
He stared at Eddie with huge eyes that told his tale with heartbreaking clarity： this wasn't supposed to happen。 The hand dropped heavily to the young man's side。 A single runlet of blood； incredibly bright in the gray day； slipped from the er of his mouth。 The few remaining Pubes stared at him mutely as he slipped to his knees； and one of them turned to run。
〃Not at all；〃 Eddie said。 〃Stay put； my retarded friend； or you're going to get a good look at the clearing where your path ends。〃 He raised his voice。 〃Drop em； boys and girls！ All of em！ Now！〃
〃You 。。。〃 the dying man whispered。 〃You 。 。 。 gunslinger？〃
〃That's right；〃 Eddie said。 His eyes surveyed the remaining Pubes grimly。
〃Cry your 。 。 。 pardon；〃 the man with the frizzy red hair gasped； and then he fell forward onto his face。
〃Gunslingers？〃 one of the others asked。 His tone was one of dawning horror and realization。
〃Well； you're stupid； but you ain't deaf；〃 Susannah said； 〃and that's somethin； anyway。〃 She waggled the barrel of the gun； which Eddie was quite sure was empty。 For that matter； how many rounds could be left in the Ruger？ He realized he didn't have any idea how many rounds the clip held； and cursed himself for a fool 。 。 。 but had he really believed it could e to something like this？ He didn't think so。 〃You heard him； folks。 Drop em。 Recess is over。〃
One by one； they plied。 The woman who was wearing a pint or so of Mr。 Sword…and…Kilt's blood on her face said； 〃You shouldn't've killed Winston； missus…'twas his birthday； so it was。〃
〃Well； I guess he should have stayed home and eaten some more birthday cake；〃 Eddie said。 Given the overall quality of this experience； he didn't find either the woman's ment or his own response at all surreal。
There was one other woman among the remaining Pubes； a scrawny thing whose long blonde hair was ing out in big patches； as if she had the mange。 Eddie observed her sidling toward the dead dwarf…and the potential safety of the overgrown arches beyond him…and put a bullet into the cracked cement close by her foot。 He had no idea what he wanted with her； but what he didn't want was one of them giving the rest of them ideas。 For one thing； he was afraid of what his hands might do if the sickly； su