Murray’s eyes blinked behind his glasses as he looked toward the door and saw the Sharks gathered near it. He recognized Bernardo, whose girl friend was wearing a bright red dress, and crossed to welcome personally one of the boys he most hoped to influence.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a stirring where the Jets were congregated, so he moved more quickly. He reached the door just as Riff, Action and Tony Wyzek appeared.

This was really going to be a night! Over the weekend he was going to write a full and glowing report to let them know downtown that at last, at long last, he felt optimistic about the progress he was making.

Years of hard experience told Murray that the air around him was becoming charged as the Sharks grouped themselves behind Bernardo and the Jets formed a phalanx behind Riff, Action, and Tony.

Could he have heard wrong, Murray wondered? Doc had told him Tony Wyzek was working steadily and had dropped all association with the Jets. Still, the boy might be a throwback, who had become lonesome for his old associates and their dog-eat-dog attitude.

He had to think rapidly, speak quickly, because it looked as if both gangs were going to tangle right then and there. He saw that two of the girls with the Jets had removed their shoes, ready to use the high heels as weapons.

“All right, boys and girls.” Murray made himself beam as he waved both hands for recognition. “May I have your attention, please? Attention!”

He waved a hand at a police officer who looked in through the door and signaled the uniformed man that everything was all right, under control, no trouble anticipated.

“That’s fine,” Murray approved the response to his request, which, he knew, had been considerably helped by the uniform. “It’s sure a fine turnout tonight. The best we’ve had in a long time. But the night’s young, only a little after ten and we want to make it better.” He paused for breath, and compelled himself not to hear the boys and girls as they mocked his professional heartiness. “I hope you’re having a good time?”

“You said it, Glad Hand!” a girl shouted.

“Fine, but I’ve noticed that you’ve been dancing on different parts of the floor, as if the Grand Canyon were between you.”

“Whee,” a boy called as he postured with a hand on his hip, “do you want the girls to dance with the girls? And the boys with the boys?”

“I want you to dance with each other,” Murray gestured in the direction of the Sharks and Jets. “So you can get to know each other.”

“We know them stink-bomb merchants!” a Shark called out.

Murray raised his hands again. “Let’s not talk about the past,” he suggested. “We’re having a good time tonight. As we get to know each other, we’re going to have an even better one. So let’s start with a few get-together dances. You’ll form two circles. Boys on the outside. Girls on the inside.”