However, D'Arcy had an authoritative air about him, and as the School was evidently in peril, and there was no suspicion of practical joking in the present case, he marched off sturdily to the Modern minors' class-room, and sheltering himself conveniently behind the door, waited the turn of events.
He had not to wait long.

He could hear the master announcing the lesson for preparation, and the general shuffle which precedes the dismissal of a class.

Then his heart beat a little faster as he distinguished footsteps and heard the unsuspecting enemy approaching his way.
Now Ashby, although a new boy, was _man_ enough to calculate one or two things.

One was that his best chance was either to attack the head or the tail of the procession; and secondly, that as the head boys in a form are usually those nearest the front, and conversely, the lowest are usually nearest to the door, the smallest boys would probably be the first to come out.

For all of which reasons he decided to make his swoop at once, and if possible abscond with his booty before the main body arrived on the scene.
The event justified his shrewdness.