Pity, pity any foe
When it hears us loudly crying:
‘Grafton! Grafton! Rah, rah, rah!’
All together! Now the chorus:
‘Grafton! Grafton!——’”
The words, if not the sound, failed him as he pushed open the door of Number 14. He considered awaiting Leon’s and Jimmy’s return, and decided against it. Leon would probably go back to Trow without coming back upstairs. Monty yawned again, picked up his hat, set it askew on his head, and started out. But the sight of the key reposing trustfully on the inside of the door gave him an idea. He chuckled as he withdrew it, closed the door, inserted the key on the outside, turned it, and pulled it out. He tried the portal and dropped the key in his pocket. Up and down the corridor other doors stood invitingly open, some wide, some barely ajar. A few were closed. Monty’s idea grew to splendid proportions. He crossed the corridor to the nearest open portal and knocked. There was no answer. As he had expected none, he was not disappointed. Reaching around, he took the key of Number 13 from the inside, transferred it to the outside, and closed and locked the door. The key, with its little brass disk bearing the number, joined its fellow in Monty’s pocket. He listened, a smile of dreamy delight on his face. They were still at it downstairs. It would be a shame not to make a thorough job of it, not to take advantage of such good fortune!
For the next few minutes he was busy. He didn’t hurry, and there was nothing crafty in his movements. Quite boldly he walked to a door and knocked. Only once did he meet a response. Then he asked for Jimmy, was told to try Number 14, apologized and withdrew. At the end of five minutes twelve doors were firmly locked and twelve keys jingled merrily in Monty’s pocket. Whereupon, crooning softly and happily, he descended the stairway at the south end of the building, and, carefully avoiding the common room, let himself out into the night.
“So I went and fetched him back,
But I was feelin’ good all day,
For I sure enough do love to see