The stranger's dark eyes were riveted to the tiny stage. He'd never seen anything like this kid!

Beads of sweat gleamed like diamonds on the guitarist's brow; the heavy green bottleneck just a glistening blur as he fanned a final, ringing lick.

"That's one that come to me just last night; sumpin' I call 'Crossroads'."

The stranger shook his head with a rueful smile.

"Damn! Don't I wish I could play like that!"

Then, with a curl of his lip and another of his tail, the man in red was gone, trailing the faintest whiff of brimstone in his wake.