Two long lines of boys stretched along the great, bare room, shuffling uneasily in the “sneaker” shoes they wore. Mr. Link was facing them, a list of names in his hands and his glasses on the end of his nose. “Now, boys, hold your places, and we’ll have the roll call over again to make sure. Abbott!”
“Here!” answered one of the boys, in a droning voice.
“Anderson!”
“Here!” came the same singsong answer as the roll call went on. That was what the low drone had been that they had heard before. On and on hummed the voice of the principal and the boys responding.
Then, “Falls!”
Silence.
“Falls!” The principal looked up and glanced down the long lines as he repeated the word. He hesitated a brief half second and then went on to the next name.
Chub and Joan stood, scarcely breathing, waiting for Mr. Link to call Alex’ name. Perhaps he hadn’t heard it before. Perhaps he was late in forming in line. Perhaps he was there now, after all.
“White!” called the principal in a loud voice.
There was no answer.