e this innocent lad (nor did I), but only to extricate
Raffles from the most hopeless position he was ever in; and after all
it was better than a blow from behind. On the whole, I will not alter
a word, nor whine about the thing any more.

We lifted the plucky fellow into Raffles's place in the pantry, locked
the door on him, and put the key through the panel. Now was the moment
for thinking of ourselves, and again that infernal mask which Raffles
swore by came near the undoing of us both. We had reached the steps
when we were hailed by a voice, not from without but from within, and I
had just time to tear the accursed thing from Raffles's face before he
turned.

A stout man with a blonde moustache was on the stairs, in his pyjamas
like the boys.

"What are you doing here?" said he.

"There has been an attempt upon your house," said I, still spokesman
for the night, and still on the wings of inspiration.

"Your sons--"

"My pupils."

"Indeed. Well, they heard it, drove off the thieves, and have given
chase."

"And where do you come in?" inquired the stout man, descending.

"We were bicycling past, and I actually saw one fellow come head-first
through your pantry window. I think he got over the wall."

Here a breathless boy returned.

"Can't see anything of him," he gasped.

"It's true, then," remarked the crammer.

"Look at that door," said I.

But unfortunately the breathless boy looked also, and now he was being
joined by others equally short of wind.

"Where's Beefy?" he screamed. "What on earth's happened to Beefy?"

"My good boys," exclaimed the crammer, "will one of you be kind enough
to tell me what you've been doing, and what these gentlemen have been
doing for you? Come in all, before you get your death. I see lights
in the class-room, and more than lights. Can these be signs of a
carouse?"

"A very innocent one, sir," said a well set-up youth with more
moustache than I have yet.

"Well, Olphert, boys will be boys. Suppose you tell me what happened,
before we come to recriminations."

The bad old proverb was my first warning. I caught two of the youths
exchanging glances under raised eyebrows. Yet their stout, easy-going
mentor had given me such a reassuring glance of side-long humor, as
between man of the world and man of the world, that it was difficult to
suspect him of suspicion. I was nevertheless itching to be gone.

Young Olphert told his story with engaging can