Have I, or have I not ?" demanded Dick.
It was a delicate position for the timorous small boy.

He had had his misgivings about Dick, and seen a change in him, not, as he thought, for the better.

But the idea of telling him so to his face was as much as his peace was worth.

Yet he must either tell the truth, or a lie, and when it came to that, Aspinall could not help himself.
"You are the best friend I've got," said he, nervously, "and I'd give anything to be as brave as you; but--" "Well, wire in," said Dick, tearing to bits one of Cresswell's quill pens with his teeth; "but what ?" "You're so good-natured," said Aspinall, "fellows make you do things you wouldn't do of your own accord." "Who makes me do things ?" demanded Dick, sternly.
"I don't know," pleaded the boy, feeling that this sort of tight-rope dancing was not in his line; "perhaps some of your friends in the Fourth and Fifth.

But I may be all wrong." "What do they make me do ?" said Dick.
"They make you," said Aspinall, feeling that it was no use trying to keep his balance any longer, and that he might as well throw down his pole and tumble into the net; "they make you break rules and get into rows, Dick, because you see it goes down with them, and they cheer you for it.