“No, sir, I came by car,” replied the other. “Quite a bit colder, sir, isn’t it? One can do with a coat to-night, Mister Tom, and I see you have yours with you.” Suitcase in hand, Wattles led the way around the end of the station, and it was not until he had started across the track on the farther side that Tom realized what was happening. “Hold on, Wattles! What’s the idea?” he asked, stopping. “The car’s just over here, sir.” “What car? I didn’t order any car!” “No, sir. Mister Loring and Mr. Clif sent it. I was to tell you that everything was quite all right, sir. It’s all absolutely _sub rosa_, Mister Tom. We’ll get back to the school by midnight――” “So that’s it?” Tom laughed roughly. “Expect me to go back with you in the car, eh? Well, nothing doing, Wattles. I’m off that dump for keeps. Let’s have that bag, please.” “Certainly, sir, but if you wouldn’t mind just coming across to the car. I’ve a robe and you’ll be quite warm. Your train doesn’t leave for rather more than a half-hour, sir, and I’d like very much to deliver my message, Mister Tom.” “Oh, well, all right,” Tom grumbled. “Go ahead. But I’ll tell you right here and now, Wattles, that it’s no good. It was mighty nice of them to do this, and all that, but I’ve no idea of going back.” “Quite so, sir. Thank you. Right this way.” The car stood well away from the station, the street lights revealing its black bulk, and the figure of the driver on the front seat. Tom laughed as Wattles held the tonneau door open. “Some class to you, Wattles! Where’d you get the boat?” “In the village, sir.” Wattles was unfolding a large and heavy rug. “It’s not a new car, sir, but it’s really most competent.” “Funny idea――” began Tom, with a chuckle. Then; “_Say! What are you trying――_” The big robe which Wattles, standing beside him in the back of the car, had spread open had enveloped him. For the briefest instant Tom thought that Wattles, meaning to lay the rug across his knees, had stumbled against the suitcase and fallen against him. But that idea vanished before the sudden knowledge that Wattles had tricked him! He shouted protestingly, but the folds of the thick cloth, dust laden and odorous of the stable, were about his head, muffling the outcry and almost choking him. He strove to get to his feet, to push himself free, but in vain. Something, a rope or a strap, cinched his arms to his body. He kicked out wildly, felt himself slip from the seat to the floor, found the suitcase under his shrouded head, and knew that Wattles was sitting on his legs!