“Is Ordway here?” demanded the proctor.
“I suppose so. We went to bed rather early. Oh, Hugh!”
“Yes?” asked Hugh startledly. “Did you call, Bert?”
“Yes, Cathcart asked if you were here. It’s all right, I guess.”
“If you don’t mind,” murmured Cathcart. He crossed to Hugh’s room and looked in. “Would you mind turning on a light, please, Bert?”
Bert obeyed grumblingly and Cathcart viewed the bedroom. Hugh’s coat lay on the floor near the foot of the bed, his trousers were in front of the dresser, one shoe was on top the trousers and the other a yard away and his shirt hung limply from the footrail. Cathcart took it all in silently and gravely. Then:
“How long have you been in bed, Ordway?” he asked.
“Eh? In bed? Oh, really, I can’t say. What time is it now?”
“You just came in, as a matter of fact, didn’t you?”
“Now look here, Cathcart,” interrupted Bert persuasively. “You’re all wrong, old man. You were dreaming, probably. You can see easily enough that Ordway and I have been in bed for a long time.”