Much narrowed his eyes at a spot on the pavement, wishing that he did have a drink, or something else to eat, or even a cigarette - and Much hated cigarettes - something to do with his face and his hands right now instead of glaring at that bit of gum as if he was trying to destroy it with his mind. "Don't," he said. "Feel bad for what I'm going to do to the Sheriff when I find him again."