The new-comer, who, from the show of whisker at the side of his face and the tone of authority in which he spoke, seemed to be one of the masters, was tall and muscular, with the bronze of a season's cricketing still upon his cheeks and neck.
"Stop a minute, Oaks," he said.

"I happened to see this little game; let's hear what the kid's got to say for himself." In faltering tones Mugford told his story.

Without a word the stranger stepped up to Mouler and dealt him a sounding box on the ear.
"There!" he said, "take that for your trouble; and now cut off down town and buy a fresh pot of paint out of your own pocket, and do it jolly quick, too .-- As for you," he added, turning to Noaks, "get a spade out of that place under the pavilion and clean up this path.

If you weren't a new fellow I'd serve you the same.

Look out in future." "And you look out too," muttered Noaks, glancing at Mugford with a fierce expression on his face as the two seniors moved off, "you beastly young sneak.