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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."
To do full justice to the memory of Diggory Trevanock, he alone stood out against this decision, and incurred the wrath both of Acton and Jack Vance in so doing.
I swear that by the time I'd finished the perspiration was running down my back in a regular stream." "Well," said the doctor, turning to Jack Vance and Mugford, when their companion had finished speaking, "and what have you two got to say?" "Only the same as Trevanock, sir; we we found it out together." "Then, in the first place, why didn't you tell me all this before?"
The first was an interview with Allingford and Oaks in the former's study. "Well," said the captain, "you kids have done us a good turn. We were in a precious awkward box, and I don't know how we should have got out of it if it hadn't been for you." "Yes," added Oaks: "I was never more surprised at anything in my life than when Trevanock said he knew who'd done the business.
"But I don't want to." "But I say you must!" "Oh! please, Acton, I really can't, I " "Shut up! Look here, some one's got to go down that slide on skates, so just put 'em on." It was at this moment that Diggory Trevanock stepped forward, and remarked in a casual manner that if Mugford didn't wish to do it, but would lend him the skates, he himself would go down the slide.
You see his son's there, and for some reason or other he seems to hate every one here like poison. Now, what are we to do?" There was a silence, broken at length by Diggory Trevanock. "I don't know what you think," he began, "but it seems to me it's no use making any plans until we find out who tells 'em to the Philistines.
"I wonder where those fellows Vance and Trevanock are?" said Acton the following afternoon, as the boys were picking up for a game at prisoner's base. "And there's that dummy of a Mugford where's he sneaked off to? he never will play games if he can possibly help it." They set to work, and at the end of about twenty minutes were engaged in a most exciting rally.
"What's your name?" "Diggory Trevanock." The whole class exploded. "Now, then," said Mr. Blake, looking up from his mark-book with a broad grin on his own face "now, then, there's nothing to laugh at. Look here," he added, turning to the new boy, "how d'you spell it?"
Instead of being at all annoyed or disconcerted at the mirth of his class-mates, the youngster seemed rather to enjoy the joke, and immediately rattled out a semi-humorous reply to the master's question, "D I G, dig; G O R Y, gory Diggory: T R E, tre; VAN, van; O C K, ock Trevanock."
The numerous stirring events which happened at The Birches during the next three terms, and which it will be my pleasing duty to chronicle in subsequent chapters, gave the boys plenty of opportunity of testing the character of their new companion, or, in plainer English, of finding out the stuff he was made of; and whatever his other faults may have been, this at least is certain, that no one ever found occasion to charge Diggory Trevanock with being either a muff or a coward.
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