“Jingo! I’ve got to get busy. Look at this, though, Evan. I’ve got it dead to rights now. I’ll bet it will work finely.” So for the next five minutes Evan listened to an explanation of the drawings and a eulogy of the invention. Then Rob resolutely turned his mind to the Anabasis, remarking sadly that it was all Greek to him, and Evan finished his letter. They went to bed at ten and Rob fell promptly to sleep. Evan, however, with Malcolm’s warning in mind, preferred to stay awake and await developments. The dormitory was very quiet, and when fully a half-hour had gone by, Evan began to think that Malcolm had mistaken the date. He closed his eyes at last, for he was really very sleepy, and was afloat in that delicious state between slumber and waking when there sounded a quiet but peremptory knock on the door. Rob didn’t hear it but Evan was wide awake on the instant. He slid out of bed, stumbled across the room and fumbled at Rob’s patent latch.
“Open!” commanded a voice outside.
“All right,” answered Evan, “but you’ll have to wait until I find the combination of this plaguey thing.”
Then the latch slipped back and the door swung inward. In the hall were some twenty boys variously attired.
“What’s wanted?” asked Evan innocently.
Frank Hopkins, who was apparently master of ceremonies, replied grimly:
“You are. Come on.”
“What for?” asked Evan.
“Never you mind. Just come along.”