With his heart in his mouth Carroll ran across the quadrangles to Standerland House, resolving with more passion than he customarily allowed himself that the Head had shown himself a brute. He felt his way along the dark corridor, still cautious, although convinced that it was but a matter of moments when the whole school must be alarmed. He always recalled that walk upstairs as one of the most disagreeable quarters of an hour of his life. At last he found his door, entered his study, and breathed a sigh of relief as he switched on the light. Then he cautiously opened the door into Tony’s bedroom, and gave a frightful start as he saw the boy sitting up in bed. But Carroll was not one to betray more than momentary surprise. He gave Tony a long curious look, sufficiently assured after the first glance that he was not a ghost. “So, my Socrates,” he said, “you are back?” “It would seem so,” answered Tony dryly, and as the older boy thought, impertinently. “One wondered, you know,” Carroll remarked quietly, as he turned off the light and left the room. In five minutes he was back at the Head Master’s house. “Deering is in bed, sir,” he reported to the non-committal head at the upper window. “Good; I thought so. Do you go now after your companions on the beach. Return at once; get back into bed as quietly as you got out of it, and the four of you report to me to-morrow morning after prayers. I fancy that whether or not you become the laughing stock of the school will depend entirely upon yourselves. Good-night!” “Good-night, sir.” Carroll had lost but a trifle of his suavity during this nocturnal adventure. He hurried off now to the beach, and explained the situation to Thorndyke and Chapin, who were so rejoiced to learn that they had not been the cause of an involuntary suicide that they forgot to be annoyed with Tony for outwitting them. It was a cold and dejected trio of boys that stowed away the remains of the unenjoyed feast, and then betook themselves up the hill, crept silently into their dormitories, and went to bed. On the morrow they were excused from first study and reported to the Head Master. To their surprise Doctor Forester had very little to say to them. “I had intended to give you a lecture,” he said, looking up from his writing and without laying down his pen, “and probably a severe punishment, but I fancy you have learned a lesson.... You can see, at least, to what the hazing of a high-spirited boy might lead.... I understand your ideas about hazing. I do not share them. I believe that you will not disappoint me when I say that I expect the practice to stop from this day.” “Quite so, sir,” said Thorndyke. “And that is all,” added the Doctor, giving them a nod of dismissal. “Phew!” exclaimed Chapin, as they entered the corridor, “that’s sliding out easy.” “Rather,” answered Thorndyke, “unless we have the whole school howling at us when the kid squeals.” “Which he’s sure to do,” suggested Marsh.