"I thought you were alone," he said, turning to Dax.
"You may go," Dax said to the boy. "That will be all. Remember what I said." He looked at the folded paper and then at the principal questioningly. "Yes, Mr. Lightstone?"
The principal was a short white-haired man with a dogged expression. He turned again to make sure the boy had left and said. "I want you to look at this, Dax." He tapped the folded paper, which had been made into a sort of envelope, with its ends tucked in. Dax bent to examine it.
"Pick it up, man! Open it," the principal said, and came around and sat in the teacher's chair. "Be careful not to spill it!"
Dax picked up the little packet and opened it. Inside was a teaspoonful of white powder. "What is it?" he asked.
"That," said the principal, "is something for our friends upstairs in the chemistry department to determine. I found it myself, in the flowerbed right outside these windows!"
Howard Dax looked puzzled. "I don't think I understand—"
"If I don't miss my bet," said the principal, "that's heroin!" He jerked his head towards the windows. "And somebody threw it out of this classroom!"
"Oh, I don't think it's heroin, Mr. Lightstone," Dax said. "Heroin has a distinct glitter, and this seems—"