“They’re in a bad way,” said the Snail slowly, “but there’s a chance to pull them through. There’s going to be an investigation, I heard. Langridge is likely to——”
There came a knock on the door. The lads started guiltily. Phil, being nearest the portal, opened it, though if it was one of the proctor’s “scouts,” as was likely, he would be “up” for breaking one of the college rules about being in another room after the prescribed hours. It was a “scout,” Mr. Snell, a sort of upper janitor.
“Mr. Parsons,” said the scout deferentially—and he took no notice of the presence of the Snail or Phil, for which they were duly grateful—“Mr. Parsons, the proctor would like to see you in his office.”
“Now?” asked Tom, and his heart began to beat double strokes.
“Now, yes, sir.”
Without a look at his chums Tom went out and to the office. He was afraid lest he might betray the secret he feared would be disclosed at any moment—the secret of the coil of wire.
“Mr. Parsons,” began Proctor Zane slowly when the door had closed behind Tom, “there has been a serious accident to-night.”
Tom bowed. He could not trust his voice.
“Two students were badly hurt and the results may be lasting. They are only just now out of danger.”