“What is it?” asked Merriwell. “Sherlock Holmes?”
“Old Sleuth,” suggested Gerald. “How did you cut your lip, Duke?”
Without replying The Duke leaned down and pressed an ear against the keyhole. Then, apparently satisfied, he unlocked the door and dramatically removed hat and mustache.
“Aha!” he exclaimed hoarsely; “foiled again!”
“Bet you he will be along inside five minutes,” laughed Gerald. “Sit on the bed, Duke, and try to look like a pillow. Maybe he won’t recognize you.”
The Duke followed the first part of the suggestion, but refused to disguise himself as a pillow, even when Simms suggested that that shouldn’t be a difficult stunt for anyone as feather-brained as The Duke.
“Don’t trifle with me,” hissed The Duke. “I’m a der-esperate man!”
“Where’d you get the red mustache?” asked Girard. “Let’s see it.”
“Bought in the village,” replied The Duke as he tossed it over. “It makes a perfect disguise, doesn’t it? I’m going to wear it to history recitation to-morrow so Collins won’t know me and won’t ask for my digest, which I have forgotten to prepare.”
“I stump you to,” said Simms. “If you will――――” But the rest was lost in the laughter caused by Girard’s appearance with the mustache on. After that they all had to try it, and just as it finally got around to Kendall there was another knock on the door.
“Ha!” muttered The Duke. “’Tis he! I am discovered! But I shall sell my life dearly!”
There was a moment of silence as the door swung slowly open, and then, as Cotton walked in with fine dignity, a howl of laughter went up. Only The Duke remained grave. Holding a pillow in front of him, he gazed fiercely over the top of it, muttering and hissing. Cotton paused in surprise. Simms was rolling on the bed in convulsions and Girard was sprawled back in his chair, holding his sides. Cotton viewed the scene at first with bewilderment and then with distaste. A flush crept into his cheeks as he closed the door behind him.
“Hello,” he said stiffly, “what’s the joke, you fellows?”
Kendall was the first to recover. “Oh, just some of Wellington’s nonsense,” he replied hastily. “Sit down, Cotton.”
“Y-yes,” gurgled Gerald, “s-sit down somewhere if you can find room. Sit on the bed there next to The Duke.”