“And what shall we set them at? What time, I mean? All together so that there’s one glorious what not, or at intervals?”
The point was hotly disputed. One party argued that for a champion sleeper like Gerry Wade the combined ringing of eight alarm clocks was necessary. The other party argued in favour of steady and sustained effort.
In the end the latter won the day. The clocks were set to go off one after the other, starting at 6:30 a.m.
“And I hope,” said Bill virtuously, “that this will be a lesson to him.”
“Hear, hear,” said Socks.
The business of hiding the clocks was just being begun when there was a sudden alarm.
“Hist,” cried Jimmy. “Somebody’s coming up the stairs.”
There was a panic.
“It’s all right,” said Jimmy. “It’s only Pongo.”
Taking advantage of being dummy, Mr. Bateman was going to his room for a handkerchief. He paused on his way and took in the situation at a glance. He then made a comment, a simple and practical one.
“He will hear them ticking when he goes to bed.”
The conspirators looked at each other.
“What did I tell you?” said Jimmy in a reverent voice. “Pongo always did have brains!”
The brainy one passed on.