"Andy!" A tall man with a frowning face appeared behind the boy. "Come on, fella. Let's not waste any time." He looked at Ron. "You the new chap?"
"Yes."
"Feel well enough for some breakfast?"
"I guess so."
"Fine. Then get some clothes on and come along."
"Hoy," the freckle-faced boy said curiously. "You play airball?"
"That's enough of that." The man paddled the boy's rump. "Get along, Andy. You'll have plenty of time to get acquainted later."
The boy giggled and ran down the hall. Ron got out of bed slowly, and walked towards the undersized clothing that was draped on a nearby chair. He slipped into a gray coverall and said: "Listen—can I talk to you?"
The man looked at his watch. "Well ... all right, I suppose. But only for a minute. I promised the boys a game this morning; I'm Mr. Larkin, the athletic director."
Ron hesitated. "Mr. Larkin, I—where am I?"