“What makes you think so?”
“The stick I fixed to lock my window is gone; it held the sashes just the right distance apart. That’s not much of a reason, I know, but I have a feeling that they will come to-night.”
“What makes you think it is ‘they’?” asked the senior.
“I don’t. I say ‘they,’ but it may be only one.”
“I’m inclined to think it’s one. Whoever it is, he comes on that projecting ledge, and there’s barely room on it for one. Don’t you want to swap rooms with me to-night? You take my bed, and I’ll try yours.”
A look of delight flashed suddenly upon the boy’s face. “And let them find you instead of me! They won’t like that! What shall you do if they come?”
“I’ll wait and see,” said Melvin.
“Perhaps you won’t mind it,” said the boy, with the worried expression coming back into his eyes. “If I were stronger, I suppose I shouldn’t. But it isn’t pleasant to wake up suddenly and hear some one trying to open your window, or feel in the darkness that there may be a person in the room. It spoils your sleep, and makes you so nervous you can’t do any good work. And yet I know it’s a kind of a joke, and I ought not to let it worry me.”
“A mighty poor joke!” said Phil, who had come in during the conversation. “A good ducking in Salt River would be the proper price for such fun! Why don’t you set a steel trap and catch him like any other rat?”
“Let’s try my scheme first,” said Melvin. “When you’re ready, Littlefield, come in and take my bed. I shan’t turn in for an hour yet.”