Yes, Ranleigh cheered again. The boys shouted themselves hoarse, even when the Doctor had left them. And then, Nature asserting herself, they sat down to discuss the meal, for appetites were keen after the skating. We can believe, too, that the affair was discussed threadbare before evening was ended, while glances turned frequently towards Clive and the others. Some, too, were turned in Rawlings' direction.
"The fellow funked," said Barford deliberately.
"No," corrected Bagshaw politely. "Look here, Barford, don't say that. I'm not too fond of Rawlings, I own. But if the school got to think a thing like that he'd never have another decent minute. Let him have the benefit of the doubt. The thing'll be a lesson to him."
As for Masters, delighted with the ending of such an adventure, and forgetful for the moment of his ill luck when at dinner, he sat down after tea with that wonderful pen of Clive's invention and began upon the task which Mr. Canning had set him.
"Beastly cad," he told himself, but with far less bitterness than on that same afternoon. "But he bucked up awfully well to-day. You could see he was ready to go in and help the others. All the same, what's he want to give me such an impot for? Beast, I call him."
"Oh, hullo," called a voice at the doorway. "That you, Masters?"
The owner of the name admitted the fact with reddened face. "Yes, sir," he said lamely.
"Writing?"
"Yes, sir."
"Home?"