Dr. Gallagher continued wandering about the carnival, feeling out of place in his loafers and pleated slacks. On a whim, he bought a ticket for the carousel from a teenage carny with a stale cigarette hanging lazily from his mouth. The smell of old smoke pervaded the booth, but as the carny handed Dr. Gallagher his already torn and wrinkled ticket, the burning odor got subtly stronger and stronger. Sniffing the air, Dr. Gallagher looked up to see the concession trailer smoking profusely. Two small, plain-looking women ran from the back, screaming. Dr. Gallagher rushed over to them to see if they were alright, but the moment they stepped into the crowd they seemed to disappear and meld with the masses. Confused, Dr. Gallagher took a moment to look for them, but then quickly turned his attentions back to the fire, which had now spread to a shed behind the trailer. An old man was hurriedly gathering up bottles of what appeared to be unlabeled liquor. "Get back, you idiot!" shouted Dr. Gallagher and other members of the crowd. The old man looked up just in time to see a tongue of flame jump out of the window of the trailer and lick at the roof of the shed. The shed caught fire and, like popcorn popping, each bottle of moonshine exploded, one at a time. The old man stood watching with tears in his eyes. Dr. Gallagher, not feeling particularly samaritan, turned in the other direction. "There are plenty of other people to help out," he thought. He wandered towards what he hoped would be an exit.