"Yes, you are--into the next one. And you're going to lock the door
behind you; and I'm going to look after our sophomore callers. Now go
ahead. Do as I tell you, or I'll go off and leave you to be eaten
alive!" Neil, grinning delightedly, thrust the unwilling Livingston
before him. "Now lock the door and keep quiet. No matter what you hear,
keep quiet and stay in there."

"But--"

"You be hanged!" Neil pulled to the bed-room door, and listened until he
heard the key turn on the other side. Then he stole to the window and,
lifting a corner of the shade, peeped out. The group of sophomores were
no longer in sight, but at that moment he heard the front door close
softly. There was no time to lose. He found a match and hurriedly
lighted one burner over the study table. Then, turning it down to a mere
blue point of light, he flung himself back among the cushions on the
window-seat, and with a heart that hammered violently at his
ribs waited.

Almost in the next moment there were sounds of shuffling feet outside
the study door, a low voice, and then a knock. Neil took a long breath.

"Come in," he called drowsily.

The door opened. Neil arose and walked to the gas-fixture, knocking over
a chair on his way.

"Come in, whoever you are," he muttered. "Guess I was almost asleep." He
reached up a hand and turned out the gas. The room, almost dark before,
was now blackness from wall to wall. "Pshaw," said Neil, "I've turned