It was Bailey. Perhaps at that moment Bailey rather wished it wasn't; but the surprise of his sudden capture had bereft him of the power of speech, and he was unable to deny his identity. The lady did nothing else but stare. Suddenly somebody else made his appearance at the window, a head rose above the window-sill, and a meek, modest voice inquired,-- "Please, ma'am, may I come in?" The new-comer was Edward Wheeler. The lady's astonishment redoubled. "Well--I--never!" Taking this exclamation to convey permission, Wheeler gradually raised himself the necessary height, and finally, after a few convulsive plunges to prevent himself from slipping back again, scrambled through the window and stood upon the floor. Wheeler presented a companion picture to his friend. As he had lost his hat at an early hour of the evening, he, perhaps, in some slight details, bore away the palm from Bailey. Mrs. Fletcher stared at them both in blank amazement; in all her experience of boys she never had seen anything quite equal to these two. Mr. Fletcher, lamp in hand, came up to join in the inspection. "Where have you boys been?" he asked. "Out to tea," said Bailey. Mrs. Fletcher sniffed disdainfully. "Out to tea! Don't tell me that! I should think you've been out to tea in a ditch!" Mr. Fletcher carried on the examination. "How dare you tell me you've been to tea! Where have you boys been?" "We have been out to tea," said Bailey. "And where, sir, have you been having tea, that you come back at this hour, and in such a plight as that?" "Washington Villa," answered Bailey. "Washington Villa! And where's Washington Villa? But never mind that, I shall have something to say to you in the morning. Where are those other boys? Where are Griffin and Ellis?" "They're coming," muttered Bailey. Just then they came. While Mr. Fletcher hesitated, in doubt what to do or say, a voice, unmistakably Ellis', was heard without. "Is that you, Bailey? Won't I pay you out for this, you cad! We might have got drowned for all you cared. Here's Griffin got half-drowned as it is." Thrusting her head out of the window, Mrs. Fletcher replied to the wanderer; a reply, doubtless, as unexpected as undesired. "If Mr. Fletcher did as I wished him, he'd give each of you boys a good round flogging before you went to bed, a lot of disobedient, ungrateful, untruthful, and untrustworthy scamps!" Possibly this was enough for Ellis, for he subsided and was heard no more, but a sound of weeping arose. It was the grief of Charlie Griffin. Placing the lamp upon a desk, Mr. Fletcher put his head out of the window beside his wife's. "I'm not going to open the hall door for you at this time of night. Your friends came through the window, and you can follow your friends."