"Wonder," he said to himself. "Seems as though anyone should be able to do it--if they were sure they were right." Then he shook his head. "Only one trouble with that idea," he added. "They don't." He shrugged and turned his attention to the book in his hands. The click of heels on the flooring finally caused him to look up. He examined the new arrival, then smiled. "Oh, hello, Jack." "Hi, Don." The other looked at the array of books. "You look busy enough. Catching up on your skull-work?" "Yeah. Guy has to study once in a while, just to pass the time away. Besides, this way, the prof doesn't have to spend so much money on red pencils." "Yeah, sure." Jack Bordelle grinned. "Be terrible if he went broke buying red leads. I go to a lot of trouble myself to keep that from happening." He paused, looked sideways at Don, then rubbed his cheek. "Speaking of trouble, I hear you had a little scrape here at the beginning of the period." "That right? Where'd you get that word?" "Seems as though Gerry Kelton didn't make it to class in time. Teacher ran him out for a late slip and he got me to write him up. He's pretty sore." Don frowned. "Funny he'd need a late slip. He already had a write-up." He shrugged. "Oh, well. I should get excited about making some of the lower school crowd sore?" Bordelle lifted one shoulder. "Well, Michaels, you know your own business, I guess, but Kelton's got a lot of friends around, they tell me." "Yeah. I've heard." Don looked steadily at the other. "And, well----" Bordelle examined the toes of his shoes carefully. "Well, maybe you ought to think it over about turning in those slips you wrote up, huh?" "Think so?" "Well, I would." Bordelle looked up, then down again. "You know, I've known a few guys, crossed the Keltons. Right away, they found themselves all tangled up with the Hunters. Makes things a little rugged, you know?" "A little rugged, huh?" "Yeah." Bordelle spread his hands. "Look, Michaels, I've got nothing in this one. It's just ... well, I've known you for a few years now--ever since Lower School. Been in some classes with 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?"