"I say, Diggy," cried Acton at the close of afternoon school, "I wish you'd run down into the playground and bring up that football flag that's got to be mended; I left it in the corner by the shed. I'd go myself, but I want to finish this letter before tea."
Diggory trotted off to fetch the flag, and Jack Vance, who was loitering about one of the passages, accompanied him down into the playground. It was very dark, the stars being hidden by heavy clouds.
"I say," exclaimed Diggory, "it'll be a splendid night for the fireworks if it's like this to-morrow. We must get—Hark! what's that?"
"I didn't hear anything."
"Yes, there was a sort of a rapping sound. Hush! there it is again."
Jack heard it this time. "It's some one knocking very gently against that door leading into Locker's Lane," he whispered.
They groped their way across the playground until they reached the wall. There was no mistake about it—some one was gently tapping with his knuckles on the other side of the door.
"Who's there?" asked Jack Vance.
"I want to speak to the young gen'leman who was locked up t'other day in the cow-shed," was the answer, given in a low voice which Diggory instantly recognized.
"I know him," he said; "it's Joe Crump. Here, give me a leg up, and
I'll talk to him over the wall.—All right, Joe; I'm the chap."