Joel, in such an emergency, wiped his black eyes and looked up sharply. David sank on the upper step.
“Oh, no, Tom,” cried Joel, crowding in between Beresford and the door, “it can't be. Get out of the way; let me try.”
“It is—it is, I tell you,” howled Tom in what was more of a whine, as he kept one eye out for John and his lantern. “The mean sneak has got the best of us, Joe.” He set his teeth hard together, and his face turned white.
Joe dropped the doorknob, and whirled off the steps.
“Julius Cæsar! where are you going?” began Tom, as Joel disappeared around the corner of the dormitory.
“He's gone to see if John is coming, I suppose,” said Davie weakly.
Tom, preferring to see for himself, skipped off, and disappeared around the angle. “Oh—oh!” was what David heard next, making him fly from his step to follow in haste.
What he saw was so much worse than all his fears as Tom gripped his arm pointing up over his head, that he screamed right out, “Oh Joe, come back, you'll be killed!”
“He can't come back,” said Tom hoarsely. “He'd much better go on.” Joel, more than halfway up the lightning conductor, was making good time shinning along. He turned to say, “I'm all right, Dave,” as a window above them was thrown up, and a head in a white nightcap was thrust out.