"You thought you heard----!"

The thing seemed to be worrying Mr. Wain.

"So I came down, sir," said Mike.

The house-master's giant brain still appeared to be somewhat clouded.
He looked about him, and, catching sight of the gramophone, drew
inspiration from it.

"Did you turn on the gramophone?" he asked.

"_Me_, sir!" said Mike, with the air of a bishop accused of
contributing to the _Police News_.

"Of course not, of course not," said Mr. Wain hurriedly. "Of course
not. I don't know why I asked. All this is very unsettling. What are
you doing here?"

"Thought I heard a noise, please, sir."

"A noise?"

"A row, sir."

If it was Mr. Wain's wish that he should spend the night playing Massa
Tambo to his Massa Bones, it was not for him to baulk the house-master's
innocent pleasure. He was prepared to continue the snappy dialogue till
breakfast time.