“Is that Sid?” whispered Tom.
Phil did not answer. A moment later the door opened, and in the light that streamed from a lamp in the corridor, Sid could be seen entering. Behind him stood Proctor Zane.
“You will report to Dr. Churchill directly after chapel in the morning,” the proctor said, in his hard, cold voice. “You were out an hour after closing time, Mr. Henderson.”
“Very well, sir,” answered Sid quietly, as he closed the door, and listened to Mr. Zane walking down the corridor.
“Caught?” asked Tom, though there was no need of the query.
“Sure,” replied Sid shortly.
“Where were you?” asked Phil, sitting up in bed, and trying to peer through the darkness toward his unfortunate chum.
“Out,” was the answer, which was none at all.
“Humph!” grunted Tom. Then, suddenly: “You must have been hitting it up, Sid. I thought you didn’t smoke. Been trying it for the first time?”