, and fellows will drop their lists
into the box, and the highest thirty will be elected."

"Hadn't we better have a list posted up somewhere of the names of
fellows in each form who are eligible?" asked someone.

"Certainly. I'll have one up to-morrow, and if there are any
corrections and additions to make, there will be time to make them, and
get out a final list two days before the election."

Among the crowd which jostled in front of the list on the library door,
next day, might have been seen the eager and disconsolate faces of our
three heroes.

Alas! not one of their names was there! Everybody else's seemed to be
there but their's. Aspinall's was there, of course, for Aspinall had
won his remove with honour last term. Raggles was there, for Raggles
had played in the junior tennis fours of Westover's against the rival
houses. Spokes was there, for Spokes had swum round the Black Buoy, and
become a "shark." Even Gosse was there, for Gosse had "walked over" for
the high jumps for boys under 4 foot, 6 inches, last sports.

Dick gulped down something like a groan, as he strained his eyes up and
down the cruel list, in the vague hope of finding his name in some
corner, however humble.

But no. He turned away at last, with his two disconsolate friends,
feeling more humiliated than he had ever felt in his life.

He had done nothing for Templeton--he, who had passed for a leader among
his compeers, and for a hero among his inferiors!

His record was absolutely empty. In school he had failed miserably; out
of school he had shirked sports in which he ought easily to have
excelled and "rotted" when he might have been doing good execution for
Templeton. He scoured his memory to think of anything that might savour
of credit. There was the New Boys' Race. He had won that, but that was
all, and it didn't count. He had thrashed Culver and been patted on the
back for it, but that hadn't got him on to the list.

And, except for these two exploits, what good had he done? Nay, hadn't
he done harm instead of good? He had dragged Heathcote after him, and
Heathcote and he had dragged Coote; and here they were all left out in
the cold.

Dick remembered the Ghost's letter, and could have kicked himself for
being so slow to take its advice.

"We're out of it," said Georgie, dismally, as the three walked down the
shady side of the fields. "I did think we might have scraped in
somehow."

"Whatever could you have