but he rather bets it won't

As a whole, it both worked and played with energy. 　　All it wanted now was opportunity. 　　This Adair was determined to give it. He had that passionate fondnessfor his school which every boy is popularly supposed to have, butwhich really is implanted in about one in every thousand. The averagepublic-school boy _likes_ his school. He hopes it will lickBedford at footer and Malvern at cricket, but he rather bets it won't. 　　He is sorry to leave, and he likes going back at the end of theholidays, but as for any passionate, deep-seated love of the place, hewould think it rather bad form than otherwise. If anybody came up tohim, slapped him on the back, and cried, "Come along, Jenkins, my boy! 　　Play up for the old school, Jenkins! The dear old school! The oldplace you love so!" he would feel seriously ill. 　　Adair was the exception. 　　To Adair, Sedleigh was almost a religion. Both his parents were dead;his guardian, with whom he spent the holidays, was a man withneuralgia at one end of him and gout at the other; and the only reallypleasant times Adair had had, as far back as he could remember, heowed to Sedleigh. The place had grown on him, absorbed him. WhereMike, violently transplanted from Wrykyn, saw only a wretched littlehole not to be mentioned in the same breath with Wrykyn, Adair,dreaming of the future, saw a colossal establishment, a public schoolamong public schools, a lump of human radium, shooting out Blues andBalliol Scholars year after year without ceasing. 　　It would not be so till long after he was gone and forgotten, but hedid not mind that. His devotion to Sedleigh was purely unselfish. Hedid not want fame. All he worked for was that the school should growand grow, keener and better at games and more prosperous year by year,till it should take its rank among _the_ schools, and to be anOld Sedleighan should be a badge passing its owner everywhere. 　　"He's captain of cricket and footer," said Jellicoe impressively.

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