traitor in the midst: a glimpse into the student publications' office

He had just set down the plaque, remaining engulfed in his conversation.

She picked it up, turned to the man at the desk, saying, "I think I'll just take it, under my shirt." He laughed. "On second thought, maybe I'll just hide it."

Glancing at the talking man, she walked to the yearbook-lined bookshelf with plaque in hand. Edging a few out slightly, she slipped the plaque behind the books. She grabbed a chair and sat next to the man at the desk, who pretended to be none-the-wiser, and they watched the ensuing calamity.

Within seconds, the talking man stopped talking. He walked to where he laid the plaque. "Where'd the Pacemaker go?" he inquired to the room.

This prompted a scour of the office -- rummaging through drawers, shuffling through papers, searching the darkroom -- all to no avail.

At one point, the once-talking man stood in front of the bookshelf, examining the yearbooks, but he failed to notice the few bulging books betraying the plaque's hiding place.

With each passing minute, the search became more frantic. Hands on his head, he sighed, clearly blaming himself for the lost plaque.

She began to rethink her actions. "Do you think we should tell him?" she asked the man at the desk. "No, no...," he reassured with a smirk.

And she walked out of the room.