eave the herrings till supper, eh, Pil? Pity for them to get stale."
Pilbury said nothing, but broke off a little piece of the peppermint-
rock in a meditative manner, and drummed his feet on the floor.
"Upon my word," he broke out after a good three minutes' waiting, "that
blessed pan must be jolly heavy. There's three of them sticking to it
now!"
"Wait a bit, I hear him coming," said Curtis, going to the door. He
stepped out into the passage, Morgan following him.
Pilbury heard a sudden scuffling outside, and a sound of what did not
seem like Welchers' voices. He hurried to the door to ascertain the
cause, and as he did so he found himself caught roughly by the arm and
slung violently against the opposite wall, while at the same moment
Telson, Parson, Bosher, and half a dozen Parrett juniors rushed past him
into the empty study, slamming and locking and barricading the door
behind them!
It was all so quickly done that the luckless Welchers could hardly
believe their own senses. But when they heard the distant voice of
Philpot shouting that he was locked up in the chemistry-room, and of
Morrison complaining that he couldn't get out of his own study, and of
Cusack demanding to be released from the lavatory; and when their
combined assault on the door produced nothing but defiant laughter
mingled with the merry frizzing of the herrings before the fire, they
knew it was no dream but a hideous fact. They had presence of mind
enough to release their incarcerated comrades and attempt another
assault in force on the door. But it came to nothing. In vain they
shouted, threatened, entreated, kicked. They only received facetious
answers from inside, which aggravated their misery.
"Go it, you fellows," shouted one voice, very like Parson's, only the
mouth was so full that it was hard to say for certain. "Jolly good
dough-nuts these; have another, Bosher, you've only had four. I say,
Cusack, where did you catch these prime herrings? Best I've tasted
since I came here. Afraid your slate's a little damaged; awfully sorry,
you ought to keep a toasting-fork--ha! ha!" and a chorus of laughter
greeted the sally. Cusack groaned and fumed.
"You pack of young cads," he howled through the key-hole. "Come out of
there, do you hear? you thieves you. I'll warm you, Parson, when I get
hold of you."
"Just what we're doing to the bloaters," cried Telson. There was a
pause. Then Pilbury cried in tones of feigned
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