II ELIMINATION PROCESS

MATTES INSTBUCTIONS told him to mess at table 147, East Refectory. A map on the back of the sheet showed where East Refectory was; unfortunately he did not know where Matt was-he had gotten turned around in the course of the morning's rat race. He ran into no one at first but august personages in the midnight black of officers of the Patrol and he could not bring himself to stop one of them.

Eventually he got oriented by working back to the rotunda and starting over, but it made him about ten minutes late. He walked down an endless line of tables, searching for number 147 and feeling very conspicuous. He was quite pink by the time he located it.

There was a cadet at the head of the table; the others wore the coveralls of candidates. The cadet looked up and said, "Sit down, mister-over there on the right. Why are you late?"

Matt gulped. "I got lost, sir."

Someone tittered. The cadet sent a cold glance down the table. "You. You with the silly horse laugh-what's your name?"

"Uh, Schultz, sir."

"Mister Schultz, there is nothing funny about an honest answer. Have you never been lost?"