CHAPTER SEVEN.
CATCHING A TARTAR.
"Well, this is a nice mess we're in!" said Tom, after a moment's pause, during which we stared blankly at each other in front of the fire, which we had approached as soon as our janitor had departed.

My chum seated himself comfortably in the Doctor's armchair, which he drew near the hearth, putting his feet on the fender so as to warm his chilled toes; but I remained standing beside him, leaning against the chimney-piece.
"Yes," I replied, disconsolately.

"It's too bad though; I say, old fellow, I'm awfully hungry!" "So am I," said Tom, "but I don't suppose we'll be able to get anything whatever to eat before morning--if the Doctor lets us have breakfast then!" "Oh, bother him!" I exclaimed; "I'm not going to starve." "Why, what can we do, Martin?
I don't think you'll find any grub here.
The old woman swept away every crumb, even from the floor, after tea; I was watching her like a dog after a bone." "What are we to do, eh ?" I repeated, cheerfully, my spirits rising to the occasion; "why, get away from this as soon as we can!" "Run away ?" ejaculated Tom in astonishment.
I nodded my head in the affirmative.
"But how can we get out ?" "I'll soon show you," I said, complacently.

"I thought we'd be placed in a fix after our lark, and I made my preparations accordingly." "By Jove, Martin, you're a wonderful fellow!" cried Tom, as I then proceeded to peel off my jacket and waistcoat, unwinding some twenty feet of thick cord, which I had procured from my sailor friends in the harbour and had been carrying about me all day, rolled round my body over my shirt, so as not to lacerate my skin--fearing all the while that the podgy appearance which its bulk gave to me would be noticed, although fortunately it had escaped comment.
"We'll get down from the balcony outside the window by the aid of this," I explained, as soon as I had got rid of the rope from about my person, coiling it up handily, first knotting it at intervals, so that we could descend gradually, without hurting our hands, already sore from "pandies." "And, once outside the house, why, we'll make off for the harbour, where I've no doubt my friends on board the coal brig, which was lying alongside the quay last Wednesday, when I was down there, will take us in, and make us comfortable." "My!" exclaimed Tom, "why, you're a regular brick, Martin.

One would think you had planned it out all beforehand!" "Just precisely what I did," I replied, chuckling at having kept my secret.