Hawley.

"Mouler's outside keeping _cave_" added Noaks. "We thought it would be
well for some one to keep a look-out in case anybody came."

"Well, what I was going to say," continued Thurston, "is, that for the
present we'd better lie low, and not be seen going about together.
It was a good thing Gull and I managed to turn the tables on Oaks
at that inquiry; it would have been jolly awkward for the rest of you to
have proved an _alibi_. Of course it was agreed that I should keep out
of it, as it was a dead certainty they'd pounce down on me first; so I
went and sat all the evening with old Smeaton. Ha, ha! the fool quite
thought I meant it when I asked him to help me about my work. But I
say, how did it come off? I haven't heard the particulars."

"Oh, simply enough," answered Hawley. "Noaks and Mouler and Gull and I
did the trick; young Grundy's was the voice that told Browse to go down
to the 'lab.' Grundy hung about at the top of the stairs, and as soon
as he saw Browse come back and make for Allingford's study, he let us
know the coast was clear, so we unlocked the door and skedaddled.
Gull went straight away to the matron's room, and asked her to sew the
two buttons on his waistcoat; he'd pulled them off on purpose. He is a
cunning beggar, that Gull. Fancy his staying behind to light the
reading-room gas, and telling Lucas he'd only just come! Why, he did
more of the wrecking than any two of us put together."

"D'you think young Grundy's to be trusted?" asked Noaks.

"Oh yes," answered Hawley; "he's been on our side all along. He had a
fight with young what's-his-name not long ago, about that skit on the
Town match. Besides, I've told him that if it gets out that he had a
hand in that Browse business, he'll be expelled. So he'll keep his
mouth shut right enough."

"Oh, by-the-bye," cried Thurston, turning to his particular chum, "have
you heard anything more about that poem of yours?"

Fletcher senior, who had been sitting all this time scowling in silence
at the candle, answered shortly, "No."

"Hullo!" returned his friend, "what's the matter? You seem precious
glum to-night. What's up? Are you going to chuck this business and
turn good?"

"You asked me whether I'd heard anything more about that rhyme I wrote,"
answered the other, rousing himself, and speaking with a thrill of anger
in his voice. "I say no, but I've _seen_ a jolly lot."

"How d'you mean?"

"Why, there's not a fellow