"Spying," answered Benny, candidly.
"There's a rugged honesty about that answer that I like," laughed Steele. "Still, you ought to be at home studying, instead of cavorting around the street at this hour."
"Never cavorted in my life," grinned Benny.
"What were you doing here?" asked Bob.
"Until about sixty seconds ago, hiding behind that tree-box."
"Oh, come now, Benny!"
"Sure! Which way?" Then Wilkins' manner abruptly changed; a serious expression flitted into his brown eyes. "Say, Bob, what was it all about? Why'd you go to Mr. Barry's?" His hand fell on the captain's wrist. "Tell me. I can hardly wait. Did he sit on you hard?"
"Not so hard as to make us feel soft," grinned Bob. "Now, Benny, before I say another word——"
"All right! I know what you mean. This is the way it happened. I live close by here, you know, and I was standing at the front gate, chinning to a couple of fellows, when I saw you and Roger walk by on the opposite side of the street. When they left, a few moments later, I chased after you, and was just about catching up, when—Gee Whitaker! Astonishment still fills me—you turned into Mr. Rupert Barry's. 'Something's in the wind to make those chaps climb such a flight of steps,' I said to myself. So it was me for the lying-in-wait act until you trotted out, ready to give explanations. Ha, ha! Say—you fellows looked awful glad to see me. Now fire away, Bob."
"I must refer you to Mr. Rupert Barry," returned Bob, smilingly.