The Philosophers thought so when I reported the case.

Some were inclined to be angry with Tempest, others to pity him; and every one was unanimous, I do not know why, in expressing a burning desire to kick me.
The expectation of a general revolt, headed by Tempest in person, and reinforced by the Urbans, faded dismally away as the company saw itself going down to "knock off" Mr Jarman's lines.
"This comes," said Langrish, rather illogically, I thought, "of getting mixed up with the day-boy cads.

I knew it would land us in a mess, and so it has." "Anyway, they're in the mess too," said Trimble.
"It's a little rough on Tempest having to show up for them as well as for us," said I.
"Shut up, and let a fellow write his lines, can't you ?" growled Coxhead.
"When we want Sarah's advice we'll ask for it." The reader will gather from this that the Philosophers were in bad tempers, and that their president was in imminent danger of losing his.
At noon next day, when most of the school was turning out after morning class into the fields, a melancholy band might have been seen dropping in, in irregular order, at the door of the school gymnasium.

All except one were juniors.

Some looked as if they were used to the thing, other betrayed the shy and self-conscious embarrassment of the first delinquents.