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第21部分（第1页）

wanted　his　son　to　follow　in　his　footsteps。　George；　who　felt　no　burning　call　to

do　anything　else；　was　willing。　His　grades　were　not　top　end；　but　this　was；　after

all；　only　prep　school　and　it　was　still　early　times。　If　should　be　came　to　must

be；　his　father　could　pull　some　strings。　Georges　own　athletic　ability　would　open

still　other　doors。　But　Brian　Hatfield　thought　his　son　should　get　on　the　debate

team。　It　was　good　practice；　and　it　was　something　that　law…school　admissions

boards　always　looked　for。　So　George　went　out　for　debate；　and　in　late　March　Jack

cut　him　from　the　team。

The　late　winter　inter…squad　debates　had　fired　George　Hatfields　petitive

soul。　He　became　a　grimly　determined　debater；　prepping　his　pro　or　con　position

fiercely。　It　didnt　matter　if　the　subject　was　legalization　of　marijuana；

reinstating　the　death　penalty；　or　the　oil…depletion　allowance。　George　became

conversant；　and　he　was　just　jingoist　enough　to　honestly　not　care　which　side　he

was　on—a　rare　and　valuable　trait；　even　in　high…level　debaters；　Jack　knew。　The

souls　of　a　true　carpetbagger　and　a　true　debater　were　not　far　removed　from　each

other；　they　were　both　passionately　interested　in　the　main　chance。　So　far；　so

good。

But　George　Hatfield　stuttered。

This　was　not　a　handicap　that　had　even　shown　up　in　the　classroom；　where　George

was　always　cool　and　collected　（whether　he　had　done　his　homework　or　not）；　and

certainly　not　on　the　Stovington　playing　fields；　where　talk　was　not　a　virtue　and

they　sometimes　even　threw　you　out　of　the　game　for　too　much　discussion。

When　George　got　tightly　wound　up　in　a　debate；　the　stutter　would　e　out。　The

more　eager　he　became；　the　worse　it　was。　And　when　he　felt　he　had　an　opponent　dead

in　his　sights；　an　intellectual　sort　of　buck　fever　seemed　to　take　place　between

his　speech　centers　and　his　mouth　and　he　would　freeze　solid　while　the　clock　ran

out。　It　was　painful　to　watch。

〃S…S…So　I　th…th…think　we　have　to　say　that　the　fuh…fuh…facts　in　the　c…case　Mr。

D…D…D…Dorsky　cites　are　ren…ren…rendered　obsolete　by　the　ruh…recent　duh…duh…

decision　handed　down　inin…in　。。。　〃

The　buzzer　would　go　off　and　George　would　whirl　around　to　stare　furiously　at

Jack；　who　sat　beside　it。　Georges　face　at　those　moments　would　be　flushed；　his

notes　crumpled　spasmodically　in　one　hand。

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