out."

"Yes, I know, but----"

"I heard you crashing through the shrubbery like a hundred elephants.
If you _must_ get out at night and chance being sacked, you might
at least have the sense to walk quietly."

"Yes, but you don't understand."

And Mike rapidly explained the situation.

"But how the dickens did he hear you, if you were in the dining-room?"
asked Wyatt. "It's miles from his bedroom. You must tread like a
policeman."

"It wasn't that. The thing was, you see, it was rather a rotten thing
to do, I suppose, but I turned on the gramophone."

"You--_what?_"

"The gramophone. It started playing 'The Quaint Old Bird.' Ripping it
was, till Wain came along."

Wyatt doubled up with noiseless laughter.

"You're a genius," he said. "I never saw such a man. Well, what's the
game now? What's the idea?"

"I think you'd better nip back along the wall and in through the