"No one see you," he went on. "Quite easy. I go with you; we find lots of nests. We go to Hangman's Wood again. Plenty of time. All night long." "Now, Cetchy, you young ass, how are you going to find nests in the dark?" "Not dark. Plenty moon. Besides," and here he looked round once more, and said something in a quick, hurried whisper. Haviland started, and his face flushed red with eagerness and excitement. "The very thing," he exclaimed. "By George, won't we have fun? But I'm not so sure about the other fellows in the room. Some of them hated me while I was a prefect. What if they sneak?" "They not sneak," tranquilly replied the other. "No; they not sneak. I know." Then the two plotters put their heads together and talked a good while, but always cautiously. If any one came within earshot, why they were only talking about bird-nesting. We said that Haviland occupied a smaller room at the end of the big dormitory, the said room containing ten other fellows, and from this it had not been deemed necessary to shift him at the time of his suspension; indeed, the same order prevailed therein as before, so great the force of habit and his own prestige. Now, a night or two after the above conversation, just before "lights out" time, Haviland remarked meaningly: "Any sneaks here?" The boys stared, then tittered. What on earth was Haviland driving at? they were all thinking. "Don't stand grinning like a Cheshire cat, Smithson, you young ape," said the ex-prefect. "Why don't you answer, all of you? Are there any sneaks here?" "No," came the unanimous answer; while one or two added, "Of course not. Why?" "Ha! Any fellow sneak, I kill him!" said Mpukuza, otherwise Anthony, in would-be blood-curdling tones, and rolling the whites of his eyeballs hideously. "There's no need for that, Cetchy," said Haviland, judiciously. "I know none of these fellows are sneaks." "Of course not," they repeated. "But why, Haviland?" "You'll see, or, rather, you won't see, for you'll all be asleep. You'll all be asleep, d'you hear?" he added significantly. He turned out the gas. Not for another hour could he begin operations, and all he and his accomplice had to do was to sit and wait. Ten of the occupants of the room were pretending to be asleep, except two or three who, wearied with waiting to see what was going to happen, actually were so. The others noiselessly arose. Both were dressed, but instead of their boots wore light running shoes. Then the other inmates of the dormitory thrilled with excitement and admiration as, peeping furtively from beneath the clothes, they beheld in the moonlight, which streamed into the room, their ex-prefect busily engaged in knotting a cord to the framework of the two iron bedsteads which stood right under the outside window.