They were deep in a discussion of possible explanations of the various problems that vexed them, when they turned down the corridor that led to their room. There was so much noise going on out on the campus—shouts and yells, and the students circling about the bonfires—that the footsteps of our friends made no sound. That is why they were close upon a figure crouched in front of their door before the kneeling one was aware of their presence. Then the figure started away. But Phil was too quick, and grabbed it.
"I've caught you!" cried the quarter-back. "So you sneaked back, to see if you could find the deed, eh?" for he thought he had the stranger who had before visited them.
"By Jove, it's Lenton!" cried Tom, catching a glimpse of the face of the captive. And indeed it was the odd student who was such an expert with the file.
"And he's got a false key!" added Sid, as he saw a bit of brass in the lad's hand. "Here, you little shrimp, what do you mean?" and Sid shook the lad.
"I—please—I didn't mean anything," was the stammering answer.
"Weren't you trying to get into our room?" demanded Tom.
"Yes, I—I was, but"
"Where's our chair?" came fiercely from Phil.
