Besides this, young Forrester was neither a prig nor a toady, and devoted himself to no one in particular, so that everybody had the benefit of his good spirits, and enjoyed his pranks impartially.
The other boy, who appeared to be about eighteen or nineteen, was of a different kind.

He, too, was a cut above the average Bolsoverian, for he was clever, and had a mind of his own.

But he acted almost entirely on antipathies.

He disliked everybody, except, perhaps, young Forrester, and he found fault with everything.

Scarfe--that was his name was a Sixth Form boy, who did the right thing because he disliked doing what everybody else did, which was usually the wrong.