“Proctor?” suggested Hugh helpfully. Bert grunted. Hugh threw the clothes aside and swung his feet to the floor. “Mind tossing me those pajamas?” he asked. “Thanks. Now, look here, old chap——”
“You’ll get the very dickens, that’s what you’ll get,” interrupted Bert. “Where were you? How did you get in? Didn’t you know——”
“Yes, old dear, I knew all about it. The degrading truth is that a half-dozen of those beastly lower middle chaps got me and a couple of juniors and locked us up in a classroom in School Hall and I had to shin down the coats and trousers——”
“Shin down the what?”
Hugh smiled. “The coats and trousers. We tied our coats together, you know,—and my trousers, too,—and I got down that way and got in a window at the back and unlocked the door. Then I climbed in through the library.”
“Who were the lower middlers?” demanded Bert hotly.
“Couldn’t see them. Dare say I shouldn’t have known them if I had. It was all over in a jiffy. Someone grabbed me from behind, another chap throttled me and the whole lot pushed me upstairs. Next thing I knew I was locked in that room with a pair of silly juniors named Twining and Struthers. Struthers wasn’t so bad, but Twining was a mean little bounder. I say, you’ve a remarkable looking mouth, old chap!”
“And you’ve got a fine-looking lump over that eye! You’ll make a big hit with the faculty when you’re called up tomorrow!”
“I can say I ran into a door,” replied Hugh untroubledly. “I did once, you know, and had just such a lump.”
“Huh! And I suppose running into the door skinned your knuckles, too?”