The principal pushed his lips out and breathed deeply. He took something from his pocket and held it up. Dax saw it was the packet of alleged heroin. "Did you throw this out of the window of Mr. Dax's class room?" The boy looked at it incomprehendingly and shook his head. "Do you know what it is? Have you seen this packet before?" "No, Mr. Lightstone...." "You sound uncertain. Think carefully, Mallison." The principal put the packet on his desk and unfolded it. Everyone bent forward and looked at it--including Mallison, who shook his head again. Dax leaned across Mrs. Lightstone and whispered to her husband, "Did you have it analyzed?" The principal shook his head impatiently. "Not yet! There was no one in the Chemistry Department!" He cleared his throat importantly. "Well? What have you to say?" Mallison apparently had nothing to say. He swallowed and looked at one of the boys next him. Mr. Lightstone leaned back in his chair and turned to address the group on his right--the school board man in particular. "This," he said, tapping the packet, "was thrown out of a window of the physics class room today. These are the boys that sit next those windows. I have every reason to suspect Mallison." The group nodded. Dax realized that they had been briefed in advance. The boy Mallison had certainly a sulky and uncooperative air. He seemed the epitome of juvenile delinquency on the defensive, and yet.... * * * * * "You," the principal said to the boys, "are a little band of trouble-makers. You cut classes, you stay up late and go to what I believe you call juke-joints. I have heard reports of your riding in hot-rods!" He paused significantly. "None of us here's got a car," Mallison said in a flat voice. He was definitely sneering now. "I've never even _seen_ a real drag-race!" Mr. Lightstone blinked. The word was unfamiliar to him, but it had a disreputable ring to it. "And I suppose you've never taken narcotics?" There was a dead silence. Mallison clamped his mouth shut, and his face became wooden. Mr. Lightstone addressed the boy next him. "Have _you_ ever seen any of the boys use this?" He tapped the packet again. "Did you see Mallison throw it out of the window? You sit behind him!" The boy looked blank and glanced at Mallison. "No, sir," he said. "But you couldn't have missed seeing him!" "Excuse me a minute," Dax said. "These boys aren't a _band_ exactly. They just happen to sit next the windows." Mr. Lightstone looked offended but resourceful. "They picked those seats themselves. That's what a clique does. It--" "I assign all the pupils to their desks," Dax said, and felt he was turning pink. The principal took this in his stride by ignoring it. "And _you_," he said to the boy on Mallison's other side. "What have you to say?" The boy frowned and stuttered.