h you. And you seem like a
pretty decent, sensible guy. Hate to see you walk into a jam, see?
Especially over some native kid with a stinking family record." He
paused.

"Of course, it's your own business, but if it were me, I'd tear up
those slips, you know?"

"Easy to tear up slips. Only one trouble. They're numbered. How would
you explain the missing numbers?"

"Well, guys lose books now and then, remember? Maybe they wouldn't
holler too loud."

Don smiled. "I knew a guy once that lost a book. They took it pretty
hard. Got real rough about it."

Bordelle shrugged. "Yeah. But maybe Al Wells might not be so rough
about it this time, huh? He might just sort of forget it, if you told
him you just sort of ... well, maybe you were checking the incinerator
on your way to the office, and the book slipped out of your pocket--you
know?"

"You think it could happen that way?"

"It could--easy."

Don stood up.

"Tell you," he said, "I might lose a book some day. But they don't come
big enough to make me throw one away." He picked up his books and put
them under his arm.

"I'm going to turn those slips in tonight. Maybe you'd better turn in
the one you wrote up, too. Then nobody'll get burned for losing a
book."

"I always thought you were a pretty sensible guy, Michaels." Bordelle
shook his head. "After all, you stopped that beef. Nobody got hurt, and
you've got nothing to prove about yourself. Know what I mean? So why
the big, high nose all at once?"

A bell clanged and the crash and roar of students dashing about echoed
through the halls. Don shrugged carelessly.

"Oh, I don't know. Can't even explain it to myself. Maybe I just don't
like people pushing other people around. Maybe I don't like to be
threatened. Maybe I've even got bit by some of those principles
Masterson's always talking about. I don't know." He turned away.

"Well, this is the end of my school day. See you."

Bordelle looked after him.

"Yeah," he said softly. "It's the end of your day all right. Better
look out it doesn't turn out to be the end of all your days."

* * * * *

Don glanced down at his textbook, then looked out the window. A blanket
of dark clouds obscured the sky. Light rain filtered coldly down, to
diffuse the greenery of the school grounds, turning the scene outside
into a textured pattern of greens, dotted here and there with a reddish
blur. To the west, the mist completely hi