Neil arose and walked to the gas-fixture, knocking over a chair on his way.
"Come in, whoever you are," he muttered.

"Guess I was almost asleep." He reached up a hand and turned out the gas.

The room, almost dark before, was now blackness from wall to wall.

"Pshaw," said Neil, "I've turned the pesky thing out! Just stand still until I find a match or you'll break your shins." He groped his way toward the mantel.

Now was the sophomores' opportunity, and they seized it.