d**k began, as best he could, to describe the first of the weather-reporting satellites. When the three hours were up, he handed in his paper without any sense of satisfaction. He had succeeded in putting down a great deal of information, but he knew that not all of it was right, and two of the questions had been entirely over his head.
In the gym that afternoon d**k tried a right cross in what seemed to him a good opening and, for the first time, landed a glove on Walt’s jaw. “Thataboy!” Walt told him. “Now let’s step up the pace a little.” d**k got hit then, but at the same time he knew how many blows he was managing to avoid with his new-found skill. He genuinely enjoyed the workout, proud of his accomplishment. He sobered when he remembered that no amount of talent with the gloves wou
