In another instant the captors and captured retraced their steps, a hand being slipped over Frank's mouth in addition to the muffler, to make sure of his silence.
"Bring him around back of Warren," whispered one of the leaders, and in a minute they had cut through the dark passage at the south end of Warren. Frank could not even make a guess where they were headed for, as he was not yet well enough acquainted with the lay of the buildings. He felt himself going down a grassy decline, then through some shrubbery which caught at his clothes, and then again where the grass seemed short and the turf firm. It seemed like a lawn to him, but as he had been turned around two or three times, he had not the faintest notion after five minutes' travelling where he was.
"Where are you taking me?" he finally managed to mumble to the fellow who had a grip of him by the right arm.
"We're going to give you the stretching treatment, my son."
Frank was not acquainted with it. The voice went on:
"Don't you know that you committed a grievous sin, a very grievous sin, when you talked back this afternoon?" Frank said nothing. "You don't think you're guilty. Well, the highest court of justice in this school sat on your case to-night, condemned you, and turned you over to the executioners, and them's us."
"We are now on our way to the gallows," said a voice to his left in a sepulchral whisper.
Still no reply from Frank. He had made up his mind, since he was in their power, to take his medicine, no matter what it was.
The group tramped on in silence for several minutes, and then stopped abruptly.
"Here's the spot," said one.