When Browning placed his hands on the proctor he handled the man as if he were taking charge of an infant.
“Move lively!” whispered Frank. “If we are caught——”
All knew what that meant. To be caught in this meant expulsion from the college.
“Look!” palpitated Harry, pointing along the street. “See there! Some one is coming!”
“Where?”
“Right there! Coming this way!”
A figure was seen hurrying toward them, and, as it passed beneath an electric light, Merriwell whispered:
“Prof. Babbitt himself.”
This talk was made so low that the half-smothered proctor could not understand a word, although he was aware that something had alarmed his captors. He made another effort to struggle.
“Keep still!” growled Browning, like a huge mastiff, and he held the man easily.