"All right."
So Eric went and sat by his dangerous little friend, and they talked in low voices until they heard the great school clock strike one. They then woke Pietrie, and Eric went off to bed again.
At three Graham awoke him, and dressing hastily, he joined the others in the lavatory.
"Now, I'm going to get the key," said Wildney, "and mean to have a stomach-ache for the purpose."
Laughing quietly he went up to the door of Mr. Harley's bed-room, which opened out of the lavatory, and knocked.
No answer. He knocked a little louder. Still no answer. Louder still.
"Bother the fellow," said Wildney; "he sleeps like a grampus. Won't one of you try to wake him?"
"No," said Graham; "'taint dignified for fifth-form boys to have stomach-aches."
"Well, I must try again." But it seemed no use knocking, and Wildney at last, in a fit of impatience, thumped a regular tattoo on the bed-room door.
"Who's there?" said the startled voice of Mr. Harley.