"Well?"

"Well, directly everybody was asleep last night--it wasn't till after
one, as there was a rag on--Moriarty and I got up, dressed, and climbed
up into the gallery. Ye know the gallery windows? They open at the top,
an' it's rather hard to get out of them. But we managed it, and dropped
on to the gravel outside."

"Long drop," said Clowes.

"Yes. I hurt myself rather. But it was in a good cause. I dropped
first, and while I was on the ground, Moriarty came on top of me.
That's how I got hurt. But it wasn't much, and we cut across the
grounds, and over the fence, and down to the river. It was a fine
night, and not very dark, and everything smelt ripping down by the
river."

"Don't get poetical," said Clowes. "Stick to the point."

"We got into the boat-house--"

"How?" asked the practical Trevor, for the boat-house was wont to be
locked at one in the morning. "Moriarty had a key that fitted,"
explained O'Hara, briefly. "We got in, and launched a boat--a big
tub--put in the tar and a couple of brushes--there's always tar in
the boat-house--and rowed across."

"Wait a bit," interrupted Trevor, "you said tar and feathers. Where did
you get the feathers?"