midnight
I remember one boy who organized a secret society , called the Mysterious League . It held meetings in our big vault , which they called the donjon keep , and , naturally , when one of them was going on , boys were scarcer around the office than hen 's teeth . The object of the league , as I shook it out of the head leaguer by the ear , was to catch the head bookkeeper , whom the boys did n't like , and whom they called the black caitiff , alone in the vault some night while he was putting away his books , slam the door , and turn the combination on him . Tucked away in a corner of the vault , they had a message for him , written in red ink , on a sheep 's skull , telling him to tremble , that he was in the hands of the Mysterious League , and that he would be led at midnight to the torture chamber . I learned afterward that when the bookkeeper had reached in his desk to get a pen , a few days before , he had pulled out a cold , clammy , pickled pig 's foot , on which was printed : `` Beware ! first you will lose a leg ! '' I simply mention the Mysterious League in passing .