"To—to the devil with the 'Captain,'" muttered Swipes.
But Dan's next sentence completely awoke the senses of all save Swipes. He only grasped it dimly through the cobwebs of his drunken brain.
"Where's Graves?" demanded Jordan, coming to the top step.
The silence that followed was as grim as the falling snow. Spuddy and Shorts were dragging the limp Swipes up the long steps.
"Graves?... We haven't seen him," interjected Shorty Brown, and Dan Jordan answered gravely:
"Then the sophomores have captured him, that's a certainty! He hasn't been here, and he hasn't been to the Rectory."
Shorts, now thoroughly sober, followed the big freshman into the drawing-room, where a dozen or more downcast-looking boys were curled up on divans. Swipes was being urged up the broad oak stairs, Spuddy now and then giving him a severe poke in the ribs. Preston perched the hapless boy against his chamber door with the injunction to get to bed the best he could. Swipes turned helplessly to his room-mate.
"Look here, Spuddy, help a fellow, will you? Just give me my pyjamas."
"Get them yourself!" retorted Preston, shoving Dillon into his bed-chamber. "It's a nice mess we're in with the 'Parson' gone."