“No, that’s not his name,” said Riddell. “He’s a nicer sort of fellow than Tedbury. There are one or two fellows that are always down on him, too. They see he’s no pluck, and so they think they can do what they like with him.”
“Meekins gets a good deal mauled about by some of the others,” said Wyndham.
“This fellow gets a good deal more damaged than Meekins,” said the captain. “In fact he gets so mauled his friends will soon hardly be able to recognise him.”
Wyndham looked sharply at the speaker. Riddell was quite grave and serious, and proceeded quietly, “The worst of it is, this fellow’s quite well able to stick up for himself if he likes, and could easily hold his own. Only he’s lazy, or else he likes getting damaged.”
“Are you making all this up?” demanded Wyndham colouring.
Riddell took no notice of the inquiry, but continued rather more earnestly, “Now I’d like your advice, Wyndham, old fellow. I want to do this fellow a good turn. Which do you suppose would be the best turn to do him; to pitch into the fellows that are always doing him harm? or to try to persuade him to stick up for himself and not let them do just what they like with him, eh?”
Wyndham had seen it all before the question was ended, and hung down his head in silence.
Riddell did not disturb him, but waited quietly, and, if truth be told, anxiously, till he should reply.
Presently the boy looked up with a troubled face, and said, “I know I’m an awful fool, Riddell.”
“But you’re not obliged to be,” said the captain, cheerily.