“Who can it be?”
In a moment they would know. Of a sudden, the searcher dealt a student a sharp slap on the back, sternly saying:
“Go to your room!”
“It’s Gildea!” said a voice that was drowned in a great shout that goes up from the spectators.
The first “Bones” man had been chosen.
Then came another grave senior weaving in and out through the throng, and soon another shout went up as another man was tapped sharply on the back and ordered to go to his room.
The watchers were keeping count with untold excitement and anxiety, for thus they could tell where each man went and how their own chances were growing less, in case they were juniors.
Bertrand Defarge was smiling and serene, for he had made a sophomore and a junior society, and he was confident of being taken into the field of “Bones.”
At one time he had feared, but since that time he had made his peace with Merriwell. It had been a terrible humiliation for him to go to Frank and humble himself, but the French youth, feeling that his ambition was hopeless unless he did, had forced himself to do so. It was the manner in which Merriwell had met him that restored hope and confidence to the heart of Defarge, for Frank had seemed glad that he came, and had appeared to accept in good faith his repentance.