The Best Made Plans | Page 6

halls a few times since then. He always avoided me--up to now."
"I see." Don nodded. "But today, he suddenly went for you--with reinforcements."
Pete grinned wanly. "I guess I'll have to get used to things like that," he said. "Ever since Uncle Harle was----" He clasped his hands together, then turned suddenly aside.
For an instant, he stood, head averted, then he ran over to lean against a row of lockers, facing away from Michaels.
"Uncle Harle didn't---- Oh, why don't you just leave me alone?"
Don considered him for a moment, then walked over, to place a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, hold up a minute, Chum," he said. "I'm not trying to give you a bad time. Now suppose you calm down a little. Doesn't do you a bit of good to tear yourself apart. You're not responsible for whatever your uncle got into, you know."
Pete faced him, his back braced against the lockers.
"That's what you say here," he said bitterly. "Sure, we've been in the same classes. You know me, so you try to be decent. But what do you really think? And how about everyone else? You think they're being all nice and understanding about this?" He snorted.
"Know why I'm not in class now? Got no class to go to. I was in Civics Four this period. They threw me out. Faculty advisor said I'd do better in ... in some Shop Study."
Don frowned. "Funny," he said. "You always got good grades. No trouble that way?"
"Of course not." Pete spread his hands. "I----"
A low snicker interrupted the words and Don looked around, to see Gerry Kelton close by. Behind him were his brother and Maurie. Gerry laughed derisively.
"Go ahead," he commented, "let him talk. You might learn something from the little----"
Don motioned impatiently with his head.
"Get going, you three," he said sharply. "You've got less than a minute before late bell."
"Sure we have," Gerry told him. "We might even be late to class. Now wouldn't that be awful? Some jerk wants to write up a bunch of lousy report slips, make him look good, we're----"
"Move!" Michaels' voice rose sharply. "Don't try that one on me. It's been tried before. Doesn't work."
Gerry paused in mid-stride, then seemed to deflate. He turned away.
"Come on, guys," he said. "Let's get out of here. We'll take care of this later."
* * * * *
As the three disappeared down the hall, Don turned back. Pete was staring at him curiously.
"How do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Oh, you know what I mean." Pete shook his head impatiently. "Make people do things. There's only one of you and three of them. And they're all bigger than you are. Why did they just do what you told them without making a lot of trouble?"
Don shrugged, then touched the button in his lapel.
"They were in the wrong and they knew it. They've got enough trouble now. Why should they look for more?"
Pete shook his head again. "They didn't have to give their names," he said. "All you did was tell them to."
"What else could they do? After all, you know who Gerry is. So he had no out."
Pete laughed wryly. "Who'd take my word? Besides, Gerry's shoved guardians around before. He's got friends all over school. Ever hear of the 'Hunters'?"
"Who hasn't? Supposed to be some sort of gang, but I've never talked to anyone that knew much about who they are, or what they do." Don was thoughtful. "Supposed to be all galactic kids. I've heard the police are trying to break them up. Those three part of that bunch?"
Pete nodded wordlessly.
Don's eyebrows rose a little. "Prove that," he remarked, "and it won't just be the school that'll be giving them trouble. The police would probably give a lot to really get their hands on some of them."
"I'm not so sure about that," Pete told him. "It was my uncle who was interested in the Hunters. Now, it's different. Maybe the guy that went and got the proof of their membership would be the one who'd have the trouble. Real, final type trouble."
"What's that?"
"Look, I just told you. Among other things, my uncle was interested in the Hunters." Pete bent his knees and took a squatting position. His elbows rested on his knees and he relaxed, resting his chin on folded hands and looking up at Don.
"Seems as though some other people didn't like to have him asking too many questions around." He paused.
"You think my uncle was getting a lot of money from the gamblers and some smuggling combine. That right?"
"Well----" Don hesitated.
"Sure you do. So does everybody else. The galactics are telling each other about why don't they get somebody in authority besides some stupid Khlorisana. And the Khlorisanu talk about the old nobility--how they can't stop robbing the people. It all goes along with what the papers