“And besides,” I thought, “perhaps after all they were not students at all, but town fellows trespassing on the campus, and frightened off by my voice, thinking I was the proctor.”
In the belief that the matter would solve itself, if a solution was forthcoming, I decided to let it drop, and accordingly gave up inquiring about it.
During the recitation hour between four and five o’clock that afternoon, as I was speculating on the chances of my being called upon next to recite, some one nudged me, and a small, folded piece of paper was slipped into my hand. This, on opening, I discovered to be a note, which read as follows:
Dear Harry:
Meet me at the north entrance to Warburton Hall at five o’clock sharp. Don’t fail, for I have something of importance to tell you. Pass this word on to Tony Larcom. He must be there, too.
Yours in haste,
Ray Wendell.
Tony was reciting at the time, and making a fine botch of it, too, to the general amusement of the class. The meeting of the evening before had evidently interfered seriously with his preparation, for though he was making a brave fight, Professor Fuller caught him on a knotty question before which Tony’s wits availed him nothing. So down he sat, as smiling and unabashed as if he had scored a brilliant success. Then I handed Ray Wendell’s note to my neighbor, and saw it pass rapidly along the line. Tony read it, looked toward me, and nodded his head.
Immediately after the recitation he joined us, and together we hurried over toward Warburton Hall. Ray Wendell was standing at the north entrance, evidently awaiting us.
As we came up, Ray said,