"No it wasn't. I couldn't bear the thought of your moping here by yourself, and it was a ghastly shame of Weevil to send you."

"Oh, come to think of it quietly, he was right enough! I dare say I could have got out of the pickle by speaking, but I was obstinate.

Solitude isn't so bad," he added cheerfully. "It helps you to chew the cud of reflection."

"And a bitter cud it is sometimes. That's why I've come. It's better for two to try their teeth on it than one."

"It's very good of you, Paul, coming to me. Is Harry all right?"

"Oh, he's all right, though he was rather cut up at your having to come here for him. It's Newall you'll have to look out for. He won't be satisfied till he's paid back that blow you gave him. He told me as much."

"What did he say? Tell me the exact words."

"After you had gone away with Mr. Weevil, I told Newall what I thought--that he had acted meanly in not speaking up. 'Why should I have spoken?' he burst out. 'I didn't want to speak. All I wanted was to get that blow back that Moncrief gave me; and I'll have it back, if I die for it!'"

A sound of footsteps could be heard in the next room. In his desire to console Stanley in his solitude, Paul had said nothing about what he had seen in the master's room, though it had been uppermost in his mind all the time he had been speaking to Stanley.

"Hallo! What's that? Weevil's guest on the move. Who is he, I wonder?"

"Hush! Not so loud!" cautioned Paul, clutching Stanley by the arm. "You would never guess. You remember what happened to me on the night I took that packet to Oakville?"

Paul had confided to his chum all that happened on that night.

"Don't I? And I'm not likely to forget it in a hurry. I only wish that I'd been with you then, just as you're with me now. What about it?"

"What about it? Why, the man in the next room is Israel Zuker."

"Paul!" cried Stanley, rising to his feet in amazement.

"Hush--don't I tell you!"--again clutching him by the arm, and pressing him to his former position. "Israel Zuker! I'm sure of it."

"But what can he want with Mr. Weevil, and what can Weevil want with him?"

"Ask me another. That's what floors me. Listen! Weevil is letting him out."

They remained perfectly silent, as they listened to the footsteps in the pa.s.sage; at first they were quite close, then they died away. Presently they heard Mr. Weevil returning alone. He paused as he was on the point of entering his own door, as though struck with an idea.

"What's he up to now?" whispered Paul.

They could hear the master enter the next room; then come out again. He stopped at Dormitory X.

In another moment the light of a candle could be seen through a crevice in the door, and a key was put in the lock.

"He's coming here!" exclaimed Stanley.

CHAPTER IX

GOOD ADVICE

Instantly Paul crept under the bed, while Stanley as quickly crept in.

Not an instant too soon, for the next moment the door opened and Mr.

Weevil, candle in hand, entered. He held the light up, and glanced round the room; then came softly to the bed, and glanced down at Stanley.

Stanley feigned sleep, but directly the light fell on his face he started up as though suddenly wakened, and, staring at the master with bewildered eyes, cried:

"Where--where am I? What--what's the matter? Oh, it's Mr. Weevil. I beg your pardon, sir; but you so startled me. Is anything wrong?"

"No; nothing wrong." Then the master added with a grim smile: "I only wanted to see if you were quite--comfortable."

"As comfortable as one can be in a place like this, sir."

"It was your own fault you came here, remember, and it is an easy matter for you to come out. I hope you've decided to give me an explanation to-morrow of that disgraceful scene I witnessed in the grounds."

Stanley did not answer; and Mr. Weevil went out, locking the door once more behind him. It was not till he had gained his room that Paul crept from under the bed.

"I put him off the scent, didn't I?" whispered Stanley. "If I hadn't started up like I did, he would have looked under the bed. I'm certain he would."

"Very likely. The fat would have been in the fire then, with a vengeance. But how about the explanation he asks for? Why not? A few words will do it."

"It's not coming from me, if I stick here the term through," came the dogged answer. "Let Newall speak first; I'll follow."

Paul knew that it was extremely difficult to move Stanley from his purpose, when once he had decided on it. So he did not press the matter further just then, hoping that the morning would bring some change in the situation. His mind went back to the scene in the next room, and Stanley's went in the same direction, for the next moment he changed the subject by asking:

"How did Weevil get to know that man Zuker, I wonder?"

"That's what puzzles me. The only explanation I can see is that Weevil came across him in his travels, and is rubbing up his German by talking with him. Or perhaps they're interested in the same branch of science."

"It's rather a late hour to patter German or science, isn't it?"

The same thing occurred to Paul, but he could think of no other explanation of the mystery.

"I wonder if the light's out now?"

Paul climbed to the dormer, and, gently opening the window, looked along to that of the next room. It was now in darkness.

"Well, now you had better get back to your own bed," said Stanley, when Paul had communicated to him the news.

"I've come here for a night's lodging, and you're not going to be so hard-hearted as to turn me out."

Stanley did not speak--in fact, he would have found it difficult at that moment. The fidelity of his friend appealed to him as few things could have done. It made him feel awfully soft, like a big girl or one of the kids in the junior forms. A senior schoolboy has always a great aversion to the display of emotion. He has a notion that it's unmanly and weak; so that when Stanley did speak he a.s.sumed a gruffness he was far from feeling.

"Well, you're a m.u.f.f--that's all I've got to say. I kick in my sleep sometimes--fearfully; so if you should find yourself on the floor in the night time, don't say that I haven't warned you."

Paul smiled as he coiled himself up by the side of his chum; and soon they were fast asleep. Paul woke up at daybreak, and having expressed a hope that he would see Stanley back in his place that day, returned without mishap to his dormitory. The light was only just stealing into the room as he entered. His three companions seemed to be sleeping as placidly as they had done when he left them.