“Don’t say those words to me!” Tommy shouted.

“Sorry. But you’re going about this all the wrong way. Let me handle it.”

“Shit,” said Tommy, throwing the two-by-four down. “You can’t handle your own ass.”

“You always did have a fresh mouth,” Allen said. “Beat it.” Tommy left the spot. Allen walked back to the zone-2 barracks and sat down with Kane and Vito.

“Now, this is how we’re going to do it,” Allen said.

“I know how we’ll do it,” Kane said. “We’ll blow the damned office up.”

“No,” Allen said. “We assemble the facts and figures, and tomorrow we march into Mr. Jones’ office and tell him how unfair it is to have our own peers—kids who are common criminals, no better than we are—stand in judgment on us.” Both Kane and Vito stared, open-mouthed, at Allen. They’d never heard him talk this smooth, slick way before.

“Get me a paper and pencil,” Allen said, “and let’s get this worked out properly.”

Next morning the three of them, with Allen as spokesman, went to see Charlie Jones, the social worker.

“Mr. Jones,” said Allen, “you’ve told us that when we come in here, we can air our feelings without getting into trouble.”

“That’s right.”

“Well, we’ve got a complaint about this system of having our peers punish us by removing our merits. If you’ll just look at this chart I’ve drawn up, you’ll see how unfair it is.”

Allen reviewed the tally of hey-cool-its Frank Jordan had issued against them, describing in each case how it had come about as a result of a personal grudge or refusal to do his chores or run his errands.

“We’ve used this system for a long time, Bill,” Jones said.

*That doesn’t mean it’s right. A place like this is meant to prepare us to fit into society. How’s it going to do that if it shows us society is unfair? How’s it right to place kids like Vito here at the mercy of a bully like Frank Jordan?”

Jones pulled at his ear as he thought about it. Allen kept hammering away at the unfairness of the system, while Kane and Vito kept silent, impressed by the fast-talking of their spokesman.

“I’ll tell you what,” Jones said. “Let me think about this. Come back and see me on Monday, and I’ll let you know my decision.”

Sunday evening Kane and Vito were playing cards on Kane’s bunk. Tommy was lying around, trying to piece together what had happened in Mr. Jones’ office from what Kane and Vito were saying.

Kane glanced up and said, “Look what the cat drug in.”

Frank Jordan walked up to Vito and dropped a pair of muddy shoes on top of the cards. “I need these polished for tonight.”

“Well, then, you can do them yourself” Vito said. “I ain’t polishing your damned shoes.”

Frank punched him in the side of the head, knocking him off the bunk. Vito began to cry. When Frank walked off, Tommy moved quickly. Halfway down the aisle, he tapped Frank on the shoulder. As Frank turned, Tommy swung a roundhouse punch, catching him on the nose and slamming him against the wall.