h, and the sense of being "outsiders" in everything
was gradually wearing off as they grew more intimate with their
schoolfellows.
Jack Vance and Diggory soon became popular members of "The Happy
Family," and their loyalty to Mugford caused the latter's path to be
much smoother than it probably would have been had he been compelled to
tread it alone.
Carton turned out a capital fellow; Rathson, the small, sandy-haired boy
mentioned in the previous chapter, and who generally went by the name of
"Rats," took a great fancy to Jack; while Maxton repeated his assertion
that young Trevanock was "the right sort," and as a further mark of his
favour presented the new-comer with a moleskin of his own curing, which
looked very nice, but, as "Rats" put it, "smelt rather fruity."
But it was not in the Third Form only that Diggory began to find
friends; for by a lucky chance he was fortunate enough to make a good
impression on the minds of the great men, who, as a rule, took no
further notice of the small fry than to exact from them a certain amount
of obedience, or in default a certain number of lines or other "impots."
One morning, soon after breakfast, a little group was gathered round
Carton's desk in the big school-room, discussing the value of some
foreign stamps, when a small boy came up to them, saying,--
"Is Trevanock here? Well, Acton wants you now at once in his study."
"Hullo," said Carton, looking up from the sheet of specimens in front of
him--"hullo, Diggy! What have you been up to?"
"I haven't been doing anything," answered the other. "What do you think
he wants me for?"
"I don't know, but it sounds rather like getting a licking. At all
events, you'd better hurry up; prefects don't thank you for keeping them
waiting. His is the third door on the right as you go down the
passage."
Diggory hastened to obey the summons, wondering what it could mean.
He found the door, and in answer to the loud "Come in!" which greeted
his knock turned the handle, and found himself for the first time inside
one of the Sixth Form studies.
It was a small, square room, and looked very cosy and comfortable with
its red window-curtains, well-filled bookshelf, and many little
knick-knacks that adorned the walls and mantelpiece. An array of silver
cups, several photographs of cricket and football teams, and a
miscellaneous pile of bats, fencing-sticks, Indian clubs, etc., standing
in one corner, all spoke of the athle
|