“Well,” said the under-teacher slowly, “perhaps in the morning you'll feel better able to tell. I won't press it now. You must get to bed, Joe,” with a keen look at his face.
“Oh Mr. Harrow—would you—would you—” Joel jumped out of his seat, and over to the under-teacher's chair.
“Would I what?” asked Mr. Harrow in perplexity, wishing very much that “Mamsie,” whom he had seen on her visits to the school, were there at that identical moment.
“Would you—oh, might I unlock the—the back door?” gasped Joel, his black eyes very big with distress.
“Unlock the back door?” repeated Mr. Harrow. Then he paused a moment. “Certainly; I'll go with you.” He got out of his chair.
“Oh, no, sir,” cried Joel tumbling back, “I'll—I'll do it alone if I may; please, sir.”
“Oh, no, Joel, that can't ever be allowed,” Mr. Harrow was saying decidedly, when steps were heard coming down the hall, and there was John, the watchman, hauling David Pepper along the dimly lighted hall to the extra gleam of the under-teacher's room.
“I found this boy asleep on the steps,” announced John, coming in with his charge.
“Why, David Pepper!” exclaimed Mr. Harrow in astonishment. Then he turned a cold glance on Joel, who flew over to Davie's side.
“Joel!” cried David convulsively, and blinking dreadfully as he came into the light. “Oh, I'm so glad you're safe—oh, so glad, Joey!” He hid his face on Joel's arm, and sobbed.