Harley Paton tapped the desk with his finger. “The pads, I’m told, were in a very heavy box. Did you lift that box?”

Miss Seifried made a sobbing sound in her throat. “For heaven’s sake, Mr. Paton!” she exclaimed. “Can’t you see the poor girl is in a state of shock? Why are you torturing her like this? Do you doubt her word?”

“That isn’t the point,” the principal said coldly. “You know as well as I do what this means. I am simply trying to get the facts absolutely straight.”

The little woman walked hurriedly to the door. “Well, I would like to be excused, if you don’t mind.”

Harley Paton sighed. “Very well, Miss Seifried. You’re excused. But wait a moment . . .” He stared at Ella. “There is nothing more you care to tell us?”

Ella shook her head.

“All right, you can go. I called your house, but your mother isn’t there. Do you want me to call her at the hospital?”

Ella said no.

“In that case, perhaps Miss Seifried will drive you home.”

The little woman said, “I’ll be glad to.”

“One word of caution,” the principal said. “We will have to talk with you again, when you’re feeling better. So please stay within reach.”

Ella nodded, got up and went out the door with Miss Seifried.

Miss Angoff turned the lock and returned to the desk. “I don’t believe it,” she said firmly. “I don’t believe any part of it. Do you?”

“I—don’t know what to think,” Harley Paton admitted, picking up his 8-ball ornament. “If it had been any other girl, I’d have said she was lying. But Tom McDaniel’s daughter—”

“I don’t care whose daughter! The whole thing is rotten, from beginning to end. In the first place, nobody told her to go downstairs. Nobody asked her to get those pads. And I saw the boxes, Mr. Paton—there were two on top, and they were full of bottles of ink. I couldn’t even move them, they were so heavy. But we’re supposed to believe that that child lifted two fifty-pound boxes, then carried a third one weighing even more down a ladder—No. It just doesn’t make sense.”

The English teacher’s eyes were flashing angrily. “Moreover, even if she did do all that—which I’m positive she didn’t!—we both know that Joey Green is too smart to think of trying anything so stupid. He’s been the backbone of all the Negro children. . . .”

The principal and Miss Angoff looked at one another in a mutual exchange of understanding, pure understanding which could not be voiced.