Poor young Aspinall attempted no such demonstration, but slipped under the lee of his protectors, and wondered what would become of him.
The old boy and the new foregathered just at the door of Westover's, and it was not till they actually stood face to face that the former gave any sign of being aware of the presence of the trio.

He then honoured them with a casual survey as they stood back to let him enter first.
"New kids ?" he asked.
"Yes." "Westover's ?" "Yes." The hero grunted and passed in, and they heard him shouting to the matron to ask if his traps had come from the station, and whether anybody had come yet.
Anybody come! He didn't count them, that was plain.
Not knowing exactly what to do, they determined on another walk round the Quad, preferring to be reconnoitred by the enemy in the open, and not indoors--possibly in a corner.
The enemy reconnoitred in force.

After the first arrival, boys dropped in in twos and threes, in cabs, in omnibuses, in high spirits, in low spirits.

The old square began to get lively.

The echoes which had slept soundly for the past fortnight woke up suddenly, and the rooks in the elms began to grow uneasy, and summoned a cabinet council to discuss what was going on in the lower world.
"Hallo, Duff, old man," cried one boy near to our heroes, as he caught sight of a chum across the square.