by these
miserable cowards!"

"No, sir," answered Diggory: "we've come now to try to get Oaks out of a
scrape; though we--were afraid--"

"Afraid of what?"

"Nothing, sir."

"Afraid of telling more tales, I suppose. Well, well; the question now
is whether the same boys are guilty of having screwed up Mr. Grice's
door. Why they should have done such a thing I don't understand, nor do
I see how it is to be brought home to them simply by means of this
exceedingly brief note."

There was a silence. Diggory glanced up, and received a look from the
two prefects that amply repaid him for the trying ordeal through which
he had just passed. Jack Vance leaned over to whisper something in his
ear, when their attention was attracted by an exclamation of surprise
from Dr. Denson.

"Aha! what does this mean?--Look here, Allingford."

Every member of the company edged forward, and looking down at what lay
on the writing-table, saw in a moment that the mystery was solved.

The communication which had been slipped under the bedroom door was
written on a half-sheet of small-sized note-paper; a similar piece of
stationery had been used for the cipher note. The head-master had
accidentally brought them together on his blotting-pad and the rough,
torn edge of the one fitted exactly into the corresponding side of the
other. They had both unmistakably come from the same source!

Even the dread atmosphere of the doctor's study could not restrain some
show of excitement on the part of those interested in this disclosure,
but it was quickly suppressed.

"Oaks," said the doctor, "go and give my compliments to Mr. Cowland, and
ask him to open school for me; and at the same time inform the following
boys that I wish to see them at once, here in my study: Fletcher One,
Thurston, Gull, Hawley, and Noaks."

To the Triple Alliance hours seemed to pass before a shuffling of feet
in the passage announced the arrival of the Thurstonians. One by one
they filed into the room, the door was shut, and there was a moment of
awful silence. Even Diggory trembled, and Allingford, noticing it, laid
his big hand reassuringly on the small boy's shoulder.

"I wish to know," began the doctor, "which of you boys were concerned in
what took place last night? I refer, of course, to the screwing up of
Mr. Grice's bedroom door."

No one spoke, but Fletcher turned pale to the lips.

"Had you anything to do with it, Fletcher?"

"No, sir."

"The