"If it's that wretched boy up to any tricks again——"
William's father left the sentence unfinished, but went with determined tread towards his younger son's room. William was discovered, carefully spreading a sheet over his bed and smoothing it down.
Mr. Brown, roused from his placid slumbers, was a sight to make a brave man quail, but the glance that William turned upon him was guileless and sweet.
"Did you make that confounded row kicking boots about the passage?" spluttered the man of wrath.
"No, Father," said William, gently. "I've not bin kickin' no boots about."
"Were you down on the lower landing just now?" said Mr. Brown, with compressed fury.
William considered this question silently for a few seconds, then spoke up brightly and innocently.
"I dunno, Father. You see, some folks walk in their sleep and when they wake up they dunno where they've bin. Why, I've heard of a man walkin' down a fire escape in his sleep, and then he woke up and couldn't think how he'd got to be there where he was. You see, he didn't know he'd walked down all them steps sound asleep, and——"
"Be quiet," thundered his father. "What in the name of——what on earth are you doing making your bed in the middle of the night? Are you insane?"
William, perfectly composed, tucked in one end of his sheet.