“Who is it?” she cried anxiously.
Ned, rubbing his shins, replied reassuringly.
“It’s me, Marm; Ned; I—I’ve been getting water.”
“Oh! You most scared me to death, Ned. Did you find some?”
“Yes’m, lots.” Ned heard an explosion of stifled chuckles from above where seven faces lined the railing. “Very nice water it was too, Marm. Good night. I’m sorry I woke you up. I didn’t mean to, but I stumbled.”
“Good night.” The matron’s door closed softly and Ned went on up to be seized by the others and gently pummeled.
“‘Very nice water it was!’” snickered Spud. “Aren’t you ashamed to lie to Marm like that?”
“I didn’t lie,” chuckled Ned. “It was nice water. I’m going to bed. Come on, Cal. Good night, you chaps. Somebody’s got my pajamas, I guess; these don’t fit; but they’ll do for tonight.”
Ten minutes later the only sound to be heard in West House was the gentle snoring of Dutch.