his waistcoat
pocket, and finding there a fusee which he remembered to have taken from
a box owned by "Rats," he struck it, and by the aid of its feeble glare
crept behind the heap of benches which lay piled up close to the
opposite wall.

Hardly had he done so when there were a sound of footsteps and a murmur
of conversation; the door was opened, and some one crept into the den.
No sooner had the new-comer crossed the threshold than he stopped,
sniffed audibly, and exclaimed,--

"Hullo! what a stink of fusees! Who's been here, I wonder?"

Diggory instantly recognized the voice as belonging to Noaks, and the
sound of it brought a momentary recollection of the time when he and
Jack Vance had lain concealed behind the hedge opposite to Horace
House. His heart beat fast, and he vainly wished that he had had
sufficient forethought to come provided with some ordinary matches.
Several more boys entered, and one of them struck a light. Diggory,
peering through an aperture in the pile of forms, saw at a glance who
they were--Fletcher senior, Thurston, Noaks, and Hawley.

"There don't seem to be any one about," continued Noaks, peering into
the corners; "yet it's rum there should be such a smell of fusees."

"I expect it was the man," said Thurston, producing a candle-end, and
sticking it in an empty ginger-beer bottle which lay on the ground.
"He was in here this afternoon after some of those old boxes, and I
expect he lit his pipe. The smell is sure to hang about when the door's
shut."

The four boys sat down on two upturned buckets and a couple of old
hampers, with the candle in their midst, and Diggory gave vent to an
inward sigh of relief.

"Well," began Thurston, "one reason we meet here to-night is because I
wanted to explain to you fellows that we can't have any more of those
pleasant little parties in my study--at all events, for the present.
Until this row about Browse has blown over, every one'll be watching us
like cats watching a mouse. We ought not to be seen speaking together,
and that's where that cipher business that old Fletcher invented will
come in jolly useful. We can say anything we want to without appearing
to meet."

"By-the-bye," interrupted Noaks, "what became of that last note? Mouler
told me about it, or I shouldn't have come. Some one had taken it away
before I went to look."

"Perhaps it was Gull," answered Thurston. "Where is he?"

"He's got some turned work to do," answered