"Per—Percival!" exclaimed Harry.
"Per—Percival!" echoed Baldry.
"I happened to be strolling this way, and thought I heard my name; but perhaps I was mistaken."
The boys could not speak. They could only stare with open mouths at Percival. It was a shadowy figure that stood before them in the darkness. Was it indeed Percival, or was it his ghost?
"Y—y—yes; we—we—were speaking about you," stammered Baldry, at length. "We—were—just wondering—how you were getting on."
"It's very kind of you to think of me," said Paul, with a quiet smile.
Paul, quite ignorant of what had transpired in the shed, thought for the moment whether he had better tackle Baldry and Moncrief minor then and there as to their motive in desiring him to go to the shed, but on second thoughts he decided to find out for himself; so he passed on.
"Pinch me—punch me—kick me", exclaimed Harry. "Am I awake or am I dreaming, Baldry?"
"It was Percival right enough."
"Then who—who's—in—the shed?" gasped Harry, a cold perspiration coming to his brow.