“Yes,” Harley Paton said, “I know. Without him, they’ll stop coming. They’ll give up.” He slammed the ornament down on the desk and sat back in the chair. “Ella’s a good girl,” he said. “She’s not especially bright—just about average, I’d say. Like most of the others, I doubt if she’s even thought about this problem seriously. If she were going to jump one way or the other, it would certainly not be this way—not with her own father in the hospital. That’s what makes it so damned hard to understand!”

“But you do know she’s lying, don’t you?”

The principal said, “Yes. I know that. However confusing it is, I know that the Green boy is innocent of this charge. But it doesn’t really matter now. It’s her story, and she has enough evidence to convince any jury. The Humboldt boy says he saw Green sneak down after her . . . I’m afraid we’re beaten.”

He was about to call Joey into the office, when he saw Miss Angoff’s face. She was staring out the window.

“What is it?”

The English teacher said nothing. Harley Paton rose from the chair and followed her gaze.

Outside, a river had begun to flow across the smooth lawn—a fast-moving, bright river of people.

“How could they have found out so soon?” Miss Angoff cried. “How could a crowd—”

“I don’t know. But this proves it.” Harley Paton lifted his phone and dialed the city jail. “Give me the sheriff,” he said, “right away. Important.” He waited impatiently, and the voices of the people began to grow audible.

When Parkhouse answered, he said, “This is Principal Paton. Get as many men together as you can and get over to the school right away. You hear? There’s been some trouble with one of the students, and—yes, yes!—one of the colored students, and we’ve got a mob outside. Hurry.”

Paton went into the reception area and found both Crandall and Spivak staring out the window. Joey Green sat quietly in the chair, clenching and unclenching his hands.

“Mr. Spivak, are the doors locked?”

“What?”

“The doors!”

“These are. Not downstairs though, I don’t think.”

Paton motioned to Joey. “Come into my office,” he said. “And don’t be frightened. I’ve called the sheriff; he’ll be here in a minute. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Joey went into the small office and sat down. “I didn’t do it, Mr. Paton,” he said.

“I know you didn’t,” the principal said.

“I had to tell you.”

“That’s all right. We’ll get it straightened out somehow.”

“Paton!”

“Give us the nigger, Paton!”

The voices were loud now. Harley Paton pressed Joey’s shoulder and carefully locked the inner door. Then he closed the window, and sat down. He noticed that Miss Angoff had left.