ucts of the Cooking School, intended for the cafeteria, and found
them edible if uninspired.

Business--classes in recording letters, using Illiterate
business-machines, preparing Illiterate cards for same, filing
recordings--always with the counsel, "When in doubt, consult a
Literate."

General Arts--Spanish and French, from elaborate record players, the
progeny of the old Twentieth Century Linguaphone. English, with
recorded-speech composition, enunciation training, semantics, and what
Prestonby called English Illiterature. The class he visited was
drowsing through one of the less colorful sections of "Gone With The
Wind." World History, with half the students frankly asleep through an
audio-visual on the Feudal System, with planted hints on how nice a
revival of same would be, and identifying the clergy of the Middle
Ages with the Fraternities of Literates. American History, with the
class wide awake, since Custer's Massacre was obviously only moments
away.

"Wantta bet one of those little cherubs doesn't try to scalp another
before the day's out?" Yetsko whispered.

Prestonby shook his head. "No bet. Remember that film on the Spanish
Inquisition, that we had to discontinue?"

It was then that the light on the classroom screen, which had been
flickering green and white, suddenly began flashing Prestonby's
wanted-at-office signal.

* * * * *

Prestonby found Frank Cardon looking out of the screen in his private
office. The round, ordinarily cheerful, face was serious, but the
innocent blue eyes were as unreadable as ever. He was wearing one of
the new Mexican _charro_-style jackets, black laced with silver.

"I can't see all your office, Ralph," he said as Prestonby approached.
"Are you alone?"

"Doug Yetsko's all," Prestonby said, and, as Cardon hesitated, added:
"Don't be silly, Frank; he's my bodyguard. What could I be in that he
wouldn't know all about?"

Cardon nodded. "Well, we're in a jam up to here." A handwave conveyed
the impression that the sea of troubles had risen to his chin. He
spoke at some length, describing the fight between Chester Pelton and
Stephen S. Bayne, the Literate strike at Pelton's Purchasers'
Paradise, Pelton's heart attack, and the circumstances of Claire's
opening the safe. "So you see," he finished. "Maybe Latterman tried to
kill Pelton, maybe he just tried to do what he did. I can't take
chances either way."

Prestonby thought furiously.