"Look out!" shouted Jarvis, hugely delighted at the success of his movements, and at seeing the bully sprawling. "Susanne's coming. Better hop, Rawlings. Susanne's promised to give you a hiding."
To return to Trendall, he dashed away from the corridor, hid his face in his class-room for a while, and then sauntered aimlessly across the quad, his chin sunk disconsolately on his chest, his hands once more buried deep in his pockets.
"Hi! Trendall!" he heard, and took no notice; doubtless it was those kids again.
"Little brutes," he growled. "All the same, we deserve it. Rawlings and I acted like low-down cowards. We left Susanne and his crowd to stand the whole trouble. We were found out, as I was sure would be the case. It'd have been better to have owned up. I would have done but for Rawlings. But there, we acted like hounds. Now they're making us pay for it."
"Hi! Trendall!" came floating once more across the quad. "Look sharp, there's a good fellow."
There was something kind about the voice. Trendall looked up and over at the far side. His cheeks flushed instantly, for there were Susanne and his friends beckoning to him. He hesitated. It was true that at the end of last term he had made amends to the Old Firm, and they had magnanimously shaken hands with him. But were they really inclined to be friendly? Had the intervening holiday swept away such good intentions?
"Well?" he asked doubtfully.
"Come over here," shouted Clive. "We want to speak to you."
"Rotten this about Harvey, eh?" began Susanne when at last Trendall had joined them, and was standing somewhat shamefacedly near the group. "Makes a chap feel like kicking the bucket. Let's have a feed, eh?"
"You know, over by the tuck-boxes," said Clive, nodding vigorously.