The Best Made Plans | Page 8

trying to get the Old Man into a dither--and getting
away with it."

He laughed and looked at the wall for a few more seconds, then opened
a book.
"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?"
"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