o walk over to the local High School with Dick.
Dave found his way alone to his place of examination.

Dick Prescott and the thirty-nine other aspirants were assembled
in one of the class rooms at the High School. On each desk was
a supply of stationery. After the young men had been seated the
examination papers in English were passed around. This examination
Dick thought absurdly easy. He finished his paper early, and
read it through three times while waiting for the papers to be
collected.

History was a bit harder, but Dick was not especially disturbed
by it. Not quite so with geography. Dick had had no instruction
in this branch since his grammar school days, and, though he had
brushed up much of late on this subject, he found himself compelled
to go slowly and thoughtfully. Arithmetic was not so hard; algebra
a bit more puzzling.

It was after six o'clock when the examinations were finished,
and all papers in. As fast as each examination was finished,
however, the papers had been hurried off to the examiners and
marked.

Faithful Tom was waiting as Dick came out in the throng.

"Congratulations, old fellow!" cried Reade, holding out his hand.

"You've passed," announced Tom gravely.

"Why, the examiners haven't fin-----"

"They don't have to," snorted Tom. "I don't have to wait for
the opinions of mere examiners. You've passed, and won out, I
tell you. Now let's go look for Dave."

It had been agreed that the three should meet, for supper, at
the same restaurant where they had lunched. Darrin was not there
yet. It was nearly seven o'clock when Dave came in, looking fagged
and worried.

But Tom was up on his feet in an instant, darting toward Darrin.

"Didn't I tell you, old fellow?" demanded. Reade. "And my
congratulations!"

"If you hadn't been such a good fellow all day I might be cross,"
sighed Dave. "Whee! But those examiners certainly did turn my
head inside out. Don't you see a few corners of the brain still
sloping over outside?"

"Cheer up," quoth Tom grimly. "Nothing doing. You haven't brains
enough to overflow. In fact, you've so few brains that I'm going
to do the ordering for your supper."

"Everything I can do, now, is over with, anyway," muttered Prescott.
"So I'm going to forget my troubles and enjoy this meal."

Dave tried to, also, but he was more worried, and could not wholly
banish his gloom.

Tom succeeded in making the meal drag along until about ten