It was wiry, stubborn hair, with a tuft in
front which resembled the comb of a turkey-cock. The same peculiarity
was seen in the head on the window. And Plunger's eyebrows had a way of
mounting to his head, as though they were anxious to get on terms of
friendship with the tuft above. The same eccentricity was noticeable in
the eyebrows on the window-pane.

"No. I don't know 'em--not a bit. Who do you say they're meant for?"
came in jerks from Plunger.

"Who--who? Oh, dear, oh, dear! Why, they're meant for you, Freddy! It's
awfully funny, isn't it? I didn't know that your face was so comical!"

Plunger shrugged his shoulders, and affected indifference. He wasn't a
bit like that caricature. It was only Sedgeley pretended to see the
likeness, and made the other fellows see it with his eyes. At the same
time he put out his hand to rub out the sketch. Sedgeley stopped him.

"If it isn't meant for you, Freddy, we may as well see who it is meant
for."

"Just as you like," answered Plunger, in his most indifferent tone.

Having assured themselves that there was no one inside, three of the
conspirators--Sedgeley, Baldry, and Plunger--entered the shed. A quarter
of an hour elapsed, then the door opened; but, instead of the three
figures that entered, only two came out--Sedgeley and Baldry. All was
silent within. Plunger had disappeared as completely as though he had
dropped through the earth.

"All serene?" queried Bember, as the two made their appearance.

"All serene!" came the answer.

* * * * *

At seven o'clock the Fifth Form began to put in an appearance at the
shed. Arbery and Leveson were two of the first. They lit a candle, and
stuck it in a tin candle-stick. Then they rolled out one of the boxes
that were piled up at the back, placed it lengthwise, so as to form a
rostrum, and covered it with a baize cloth. On the top of this they
placed a wooden mallet, used for knocking in the stumps in the
cricketing season.

"Sounds all right," said Leveson, giving the mallet a flourish over his
head, and bringing it down sharply on top of the box. "Order--order for
the chair!"

Down it came a second time.

"Friends, Romans, and Countrymen----"

"Drop the cackle, Levy," shouted Arbery, "and give me a hand."

He was pulling out some of the boxes, and Leveson lent him a hand to
arrange them as seats. It so happened that in one of the most
dilapidated of these boxes, which had rested