Gerry swung an open hand jarringly against Pete's face.
"Guess you're going to have to have a little lesson in how to talk to your betters," he snarled. He drew back a fist.
Don Michaels had come out of his chair. He strode over to the group, to face the attacker.
"Just exactly what do you think you're doing?" he demanded icily.
"Who do you think you are?"
Don touched a small bronze button in his lapel. "I'm one of the guys that's supposed to keep order around this place," he said. "We've got self-government in this school, remember?" He swung about to confront the two who still held Waern.
"Now, suppose you turn this guy loose and start explaining yourselves."
Gerry placed a large hand on Don's shoulder, kneading at the muscles suggestively.
"Look, little man," he said patronizingly, "you'll be a lot better off if you just mind your own business. Like watching those lockers over there so they don't fly away or something. We'll take——"
Michaels swung around slowly, then put knuckles on hips and stared at the other sternly.