"I wouldn't say that. Shad's a good man. Better than most of us, maybe. But he's ..." I shut my eyes, looked for adjectives, and could come up only with "not reliable," a choice I instantly regretted. Shad had plowed snow twenty years, in dangerous weather, for embarrassing pay. Reliable is exactly what he was. Yet it was also true he had a headful of spiders which woke now and then and altered his personal scenery. Somehow I'd managed to disappoint one friend and rat on another at once. "Don't"