Glyn sprang to the handle, and the Doctor walked slowly out, followed by the boys, while Glyn gripped his companion by the wrist and said hastily. “Come quietly, and if we meet anybody don’t make them see that something is wrong by wearing a face like that.”
Singh looked at him fiercely, and then followed in silence, passing nobody, as they made for the corridor and entered the door of their dormitory, which Singh in his haste had left open.
The Doctor stepped in and made way for the two boys to pass, himself closing the door after them, and then turning, raising his eyebrows a little as he saw the state of the floor, where the carpet was scattered with different garments and odds and ends, while the bullock-trunk lay upside down.
The Doctor glanced at Glyn, who read his wish in his eyes.
“Where are your keys, Singh?” he cried.
“I don’t know. What do you want with them?”
“Why, to search your drawers, of course.”
“I can do that myself,” said the boy haughtily.
“I know that; but I am going to do it,” said Glyn firmly. And brushing by his companion, he went to the overturned trunk, turned it back into position, and drew the keys from the lock.
Singh made no attempt to check him, but drew himself up and stood with folded arms, scowling angrily as Glyn unlocked and carefully emptied drawer after drawer in turn, replacing the contents as he went on.