"You ought to have your head punched!" growled Tom. He was still sick, and the sickness made him reckless.
"Rover! How dare you?" exclaimed Doctor Wallington severely.
"I don't care! He is down on us, me especially, and he wants to put us in disgrace. He's a miserable sneak, that's what he is!"
"You are evidently in no condition to tell your story, and your companions are little better off," went on the head of the college. He turned to the two professors. "You may take them up to rooms 77 and 78, Mr. Blackie. I will confer with you further, Mr. Sharp."
There was no help for it, and with their heads still in a whirl, the Rovers and Stanley were taken to two rooms not used by any of the other students. The rooms were in an angle of the building, away from all others. They had a small hallway of their own, with a door shutting it off from the main hall.
Professor Blackie marched the boys into the rooms, and saw to it that they had a pitcher of fresh drinking water.
"You will have to remain here until Doctor Wallington sends for you," said the instructor, and walked out of the room. The boys heard him pass through the little hall and close and lock the door to the main hall.
"Prisoners! What do you think of that?" cried Sam.
"It is carrying matters with a high hand," answered Dick. He placed a hand on his forehead. "How my head aches!"
"Same here," answered Stanley. "I am going to rest," he added, and threw himself on one of the beds.