He entered his partner's room, gripping the slumber-seized Hazelton with a strong clasp.
"Oh, quit your fooling!" protested a sleepy voice from the pillow.
"Time to get up, you slant-eyed rations stealer!" muttered Tom gruffly.
"Come on.

You're needed, and there's no time to be lost.

Up with you!" Tom dragged his drowsy partner from the bed, seating him on the edge of it.
"Now, shed your pajamas and pull on something decent," Reade commanded grimly.

"Hustle! There's a conference going on outside, and you're wanted.

Hurry! Want me to dump the pitcher of water on you?
I'll do it if you give your eyes another rub!" Hazelton was now fully convinced that something important was in the air.
If not, he knew that his chum never would have hauled him out of bed in the darkest hours of the night.
"If you throw any water I'll shave you with the bread-knife," retorted Harry.