Ainger, as he knew, was popular because he had won the mile, and was upright, and meant what he said, and said what he meant.

No boy of whom the same can be said could help being popular.
"But," said Felgate to himself, "there are other ways of being popular.
I haven't won the mile or anything else; I'm not particularly upright, and I shouldn't like to assert I always either say what I mean or mean what I say.

Still I can make myself pleasant to a parcel of kids when I choose; I can let them off some of their little rows, and I can help them to some better sport than all this tomfoolery about getting up a crack eleven and winning all the school prizes.

Ainger won't like it, but I fancy I can sail close enough to the wind not to give him a chance of being down on me.

And as for Railsford--the snob--if he interferes, well, I can take it out of him in a way he don't suspect.