Why had Jack assumed the room would be empty?

He and Spot knelt on the floor where they had fallen, gazing up at the towering Snyder like shocked deer. The warden's face was more billious with rage than Jack had ever seen it. Out of the corner of his eye Jack perceived a stout, well-dressed man, a stranger, sitting in the chair across from Snyder's desk, but he had little attention for anything but the dangerously angry Snyder.

Pick yourselves up, boys, said Snyder, his voice furious but surprisingly soft.

Awkwardly Spot and Jack scrambled up from the floor, the fire of rebellion momentarily quelled by surprise and confusion.

Apologize to Mr. Roosevelt for interrupting our meeting. Jack and Spot mumbled an apology to the stranger, although Jack noticed the man looked more amused than offended.

That's all right, boys, said Mr. Roosevelt in a big, jovial voice. We were nearly through anyway. I think I'll be going now, Mr. Snyder, if we've come to an agreement. Snyder nodded, not taking his eyes off of Jack. Very well, I'll just leave you to your work then, said Roosevelt, standing and heading towards the door. Don't be too hard on them, Mr. Snyder, I'm sure it was just a bit of fun. Most creative, using the dumbwaiter like that. I congratulate you two. Make fine army officers some day, he commented as he left.

The moment the door had closed, Snyder grabbed both boys by the neck in a crushing grip. The sheer goddamned nerve of you creatures will never cease to amaze me. He spoke in the tone the Refugees called ice-hot,' the peculiar combination of rage and control that was more paralyzing than any shouting. No matter how you are punished, no matter how clearly you are shown that all your lawbreaking and mayhem only leads to more trouble, you continue to disobey. Do you do it for pleasure, I wonder? Will you keep this up forever?

So that's how you see us, thought Jack, in a startling moment of clarity. Little crime machines. No wonder you treat us like you do... You think you're right to hate us. You think you're doing us GOOD. He felt frozen, made dizzy by his sudden vision of a world in which Snyder could see himself as a good man. Law-abiding. Just.

We'll keep on goin' til we gets what we wants, said Spot, recovering his defiance. What we deserve.

No, thought Jack. No, that was the wrong thing to say. You just made him right.

But he didn't have time to explain this, even if he'd wanted to. The door burst open and Mike appeared, wild-eyed and with the beginning of a bruise darkening on his left cheek.

Jack, Spot! They called the police! Somebody called the police! You gotta come quick, we're dyin' out there!Of course I called the police, you foolish boy. Did you think you could all simply walk out of here? said Snyder calmly.

Dimly, Jack could hear the sounds coming from the courtyard, though the windows were firmly shut. Screams. The boys were screaming. And it was no longer joyful and rebellious. It sounded like what it wasa mob of frightened boys being beaten by grown men.

You lousy bastard, he said to Snyder. You goddamn filthy bum. And without a second thought, he snatched a heavy brass ashtray from the desk and hit the warden as hard as he could on the temple.

Snyder released his grip on the boys' necks and staggered backward, eyes unfocused. Then he tumbled to the floor.

said Spot after a moment of silence. Good one.Let's get that key, before he wakes up. said Jack. He felt cold and heavy all over.

Spot knelt and fished in Snyder's pocket until he came up with a ring of keys. Then they left the office and ran toward the courtyard as fast as they could.