knowing what might e out。 What did was：
〃I was told you hadn't finished high school。 But you don't talk like an uneducated man。〃
〃It's true that I left organized education very early； sir。 But the manager takes care of his help。 He finds that it pays。 Education always pays； don't you agree； sir？〃
〃Yes；〃 Jack said dazedly。
〃For instance； you show a great interest in learning more about the Overlook Hotel。 Very wise of you； sir。 Very noble。 A certain scrapbook was left in the basement for you to find…〃
〃By whom？〃 Jack asked eagerly。
〃By the manager； of course。 Certain other materials could be put at your disposal； if you wished them 。 。 。 〃
〃I do。 Very much。〃 He tried to control the eagerness in his voice and failed miserably。
〃You're a true scholar；〃 Grady said。 〃Pursue the topic to the end。 Exhaust all sources。〃 He dipped his low…browed head； pulled out the lapel of his white mess jacket； and buffed his knuckles at a spot of dirt that was invisible to Jack。
〃And the manager puts no strings on his largess；〃 Grady went on。 〃Not at all。
Look at me； a tenth…grade dropout Think how much further you yourself could go in the Overlooks organizational structure。 Perhaps 。 。 。 in time 。 。 。 to the very top。〃
〃Really？〃 Jack whispered。
〃But that's really up to your son to decide； isn't it？〃 Grady asked； raising his eyebrows。 The delicate gesture went oddly with the brows themselves； which were bushy and somehow savage。
〃Up to Danny？〃 Jack frowned at Grady。 〃No； of course not。 I wouldn't allow my son to make decisions concerning my career。 Not at all。 What do you take me for？
〃
〃A dedicated man；〃 Grady said warmly。 〃Perhaps I put it badly； sir。 Let us say that your future here is contingent upon how you decide to deal with your son's waywardness。〃
〃I make my own decisions；〃 Jack whispered。
〃But you must deal with him。〃
〃I will。〃
〃Firmly 〃
〃I will。〃
〃A man who cannot control his own family holds very little interest for our manager。 A man who cannot guide the courses of his own wife and son can hardly be expected to guide himself； let alone assume a position of responsibility in an operation of this magnitude。 He…〃
〃I said I'll handle him！〃 Jack shouted suddenly； enraged。
〃Tuxedo Junction〃 had just concluded and a new tune hadn't begun。 His shout fell perfectly into the gap； and conversation suddenly ceased behind him。 His skin suddenly felt hot all over。 He became fixedly positive that everyone was staring at him。 They had finished with Roger and would now mence with him。
Roll over。 Sit up。 Play dead。 If you play the game with us； we'll play the game with you。 Position of responsibility。 They wanted him to sacrifice his son。
（…Now he follows Harry everywhere； wagging his little tail behind him…） （Roll over。 Play dead。 Chastise your son。）
〃Right this way； sir；〃 Grady was saying。 〃Something that might interest you。〃 The conversation had begun again； lifting and dropping in its own rhythm； weaving in and out of the band music； now doing a swing version of Lennon and McCartney's 〃Ticket to Ride。〃 （I've heard better over supermarket loudspeakers。） He giggled foolishly。 He looked down at his left hand and saw there was another drink in it； half…full。 He emptied it at a gulp。
Now he was standing in front of the mantelpiece； the heat from the crackling fire that bad been laid in the hearth warming his legs。
（a fire？ 。 。 。 in August？ 。 。 。 yes 。 。 。 and no 。 。 。 all times are one） There was a clock under a glass dome； flanked by two carved ivory elephants。
Its hands stood at a minute to midnight。 He gazed at it blearily。 Had this been what Grady wanted him to see？ He turned around to ask； but Grady had left him。
Halfway through 〃Ticket to Ride；〃 the band wound up in a brassy flourish。
〃The hour is at hand！〃 Horace Derwent proclaimed。 〃Midnight！ Unmask！ Unmask！〃 He tried to turn again； to see what famous faces were hidden beneath the glitter and paint and masks； but he was frozen now； unable to look away from the clock…its hands had e together and pointed straight up。
〃Unmask！ Unmask！〃 the chant went up。
The clock began to chime delicately。 Along the steel runner below the clockface； from the left and right； two figures advanced。 Jack watched； fascinated； the unmasking forgotten。 Clockwork whirred。 Cogs turned and meshed； brass warmly glowing。 The balance wheel rocked back and forth precisely。
One of the figures was a man standing on tiptoe； with what looked like a tiny club clasped in his hands。 The other was a small boy wearing a dunce cap。 The clockwork figures glittered； fantastically precise。 Across the front of the boy's dunce cap he could read the engraved word FOOLE。
The two figures slipped onto the opposing ends of a steel axis bar。 Somewhere； tinkling on and on； were the strains of a Strauss waltz。 An insane mercial jingle began to run through his mind to the tune： Buy dog food； rowf…rowf； rowf… rowf； buy dog food 。 。 。
The steel mallet in the clockwork daddy's hands came down on the boy's head。
The clockwork son crumpled forward。 The mallet rose and fell； rose and fell。 The boy's upstretched； protesting hands began to falter。 The boy sagged from his crouch to a prone position。 And still the hammer rose and fell to the light； tinkling air of the Strauss melody； and it seemed that he could see the man's face； working and knotting and constricting； could see the clockwork daddy's mouth opening and closing as he berated the unconscious； bludgeoned figure of the son。
A spot of red flew up against the inside of the glass dome。
Another followed。 Two more splattered beside it。
Now the red liquid was spraying up like an obscene rain shower； striking the glass sides of the dome and running； obscuring what was going on inside； and flecked through the scarlet were tiny gray ribbons of tissue； fragments of bone and brain。 And still he could see the hammer rising and falling as the clockwork continued to turn and the cogs continued to mesh the gears and teeth of this cunningly made machine。
〃Unmask！ Unmask！〃 Derwent was shrieking behind him； and somewhere a dog was howling in human tones。
（But clockwork can't bleed clockwork can't bleed） The entire dome was splashed with blood； he could see clotted bits of hair but nothing else thank God he could see nothing else； and still he thought he would be sick because he could hear the hammerblows still falling； could hear them through the glass just as he could hear the phrases of 〃The Blue Danube。〃 But the sounds were no longer the mechanical tink…tink…tink noises of a mechanical hammer striking a mechanical head； but the soft and squashy thudding sounds of a real hammer slicing down and whacking into a spongy； muddy ruin。 A ruin that once had been…
〃UNMASK！〃 （…the Red Death held sway over all！） With a miserable； rising scream； he turned away from the clock； his hands outstretched； his feet stumbling against one another like wooden blocks as he begged them to stop； to take him； Danny； Wendy； to take the whole world if they wanted it； but only to stop and leave him a little sanity； a little light。
The ballroom was empty。
The chairs with their spindly legs were upended on tables covered with plastic dust drops。 The red rug with its golden tracings was back on the dance floor； protecting the polished hardwood surface。 The bandstand was deserted except for a disassembled microphone stand and a dusty guitar leaning stringless against the wall。 Cold morning light； winterlight； fell languidly through the high windows。
His head was still reeling； he still felt drunk； but when he turned back to the mantelpiece； his drink was gone。 There were only the ivory elephants 。 。 。
and the clock。
He stumbled back across the cold； shadowy lobby and through the dining room。
His foot hooked around a table leg and he fell full…length； upsetting the table with a clatter。 He struck his nose hard on the floor and it began to bleed。 He got up； snufing back blood and wiping his nose with the back of his hand。 He crossed to the Colorado Lounge and shoved through the batwing doors； making them fly back an