'Mr Gray?' he asked softly. Walking past it, moving delicately on tiny feet, is the deer he saw that day in Cambridge just before he was struck. 'What are they?' he asked. 'Who else would I mean, The Firehouse Five Plus Two? Yes, them!' 'They're clean, boss.
He didn't care very much for the fellows who sometimes turned up and loafed around the store, talking about the patriots o Ten minutes later they bounced hard over a jut of granite and Pete went tumbling off the back with a low cry. It was almost certainly one of the lights he and Beaver had seen playing in the clouds, above the fleeing animals coming out of The Gulch. You can talk to him.
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