wounded gorilla throws in his native forest. These were followed by
the wrath of King--three steps at a time, up the staircase, with a
dry whir of the gown. Aladdin and company, listening, squeaked with
excitement as the door crashed open. King stumbled into the darkness,
and cursed those performers by the gods of Balliol and quiet repose.

"Turned out for a week," said Aladdin, holding the study door on the
crack. "Key to be brought down to his study in five minutes. 'Brutes!
Barbarians! Savages! Children!' He's rather agitated. 'Arrah, Patsy,
mind the baby,'" he sang in a whisper as he clung to the door-knob,
dancing a noiseless war-dance.

King went down-stairs again, and Beetle and McTurk lit the gas to
confer with Stalky. But Stalky had vanished.

"Looks like no end of a mess," said Beetle, collecting his books and
mathematical instrument case. "A week in the form-rooms isn't any
advantage to us."

"Yes, but don't you see that Stalky isn't here, you owl!" said McTurk.
"Take down the key, and look sorrowful. King'll only jaw you for half
an hour. I'm going to read in the lower form-room."

"But it's always me," mourned Beetle.

"Wait till we see," said McTurk, hopefully. "I don't know any more
than you do what Stalky means, but it's something. Go down and draw
King's fire. You're used to it."

No sooner had the key turned in the door than the lid of the coal-box,