Their companions stayed out on the campus, waiting for them, instead of dispersing to their rooms to prepare for the first lesson period. As the minutes dragged away there was a general feeling of apprehension.
"Don't s'pose they'll get a flogging do you?" asked Sam.
"Against the rules of the institution," replied Jack.
"Here they come," announced Fred Kaler. "I don't know whether I ought to play a funeral march or 'Palms of Victory.'"
"Probably the former," put in John Smith.
"Well?" asked Jack, as the two "burglars" came within hailing distance, "what did they do to you?"
"It's all right!" exclaimed Nat. "Say, they're bricks all right, Gales and Hall are! They took us to Dr. Mead's little private office, and we thought sure we were in for it. I didn't know how they recognized me until Gales gave me my handkerchief, which I had dropped in the room. It had my name on it."
"Skip those details!" interrupted Sam. "Get down to business. Did they fire you?"
"Not a bit of it," replied Nat. "They asked me if I was hurt in the— er—the—jump I took from the window. I said I wasn't. They then made some remarks about the night air being bad toward the end of the term, and they told us to go to our classes. Not a word about it. I call that white, I do."
"Right you are!" came in chorus from the others.