第8部分

請關閉瀏覽器的閱讀/暢讀/小說模式並且關閉廣告遮蔽過濾功能，避免出現內容無法顯示或者段落錯亂。

with　identical　expressions　of　alarm；　thinking　that　something　had　happened　to　either　the　Indian　from　Oklahoma　（his　name　was　Arlen　Bitterbuck；　but　we　called　him　The　Chief　。。。　or；　in　Harry　Terwilliger's　case；　Chief　Coat　Cheese；　because　that　was　what　Harry　claimed　Bitterbuck　smelled　like）；　or　the　fellow　we　called　The　President。　But　then　Brutal　started　to　laugh；　and　we　hurried　to　see　what　was　happening。　Laughing　in　E　Block　sounded　almost　as　wrong　as　laughing　in　church。

Old　Toot…Toot；　the　trusty　who　ran　the　food…wagon　in　those　days；　had　been　by　with　his　holy…rolling　cartful　of　goodies；　and　Brutal　had　stocked　up　for　a　long　night　…　three　sandwiches；　two　pops；　and　a　couple　of　moon　pies。　Also　a　side　of　potato　salad　Toot　had　undoubtedly　filched　from　the　prison　kitchen；　which　was　supposed　to　be　off…limits　to　him。　Brutal　had　the　logbook　open　in　front　of　him；　and　for　a　wonder　he　hadn't　spilled　anything　on　it　yet。　Of　course；　he　was　just　getting　started。

'What？〃　Dean　asked。　〃What　is　it？〃

〃State　legislature　must　have　opened　the　pursestrings　enough　to　hire　another　screw　this　year　after　all；〃　Brutal　said；　still　laughing。　〃Lookie　yonder。〃

He　pointed　and　we　saw　the　mouse。　I　started　to　laugh；　too；　and　Dean　joined　in。　You　really　couldn't　help　it；　because　a　guard　doing　quarter…hour　check　rounds　was　just　like　that　mouse　looked　like：　a　tiny；　furry　guard　making　sure　no　one　was　trying　to　escape　or　mit　suicide。　It　would　trot　a　little　way　toward　us　along　the　Green　Mile；　then　turn　its　head　from　side　to　side；　as　if　checking　the　cells。　Then　it　would　make　another　forward　spurt。　The　fact　that　we　could　hear　both　of　our　current　inmates　snoring　away　in　spite　of　the　yelling　and　the　laughter　somehow　made　it　even　funnier。

It　was　a　perfectly　ordinary　brown　mouse；　except　for　th