“I’m on the Christmas tree,”[5] exclaimed Ralph to his roommate before the examination commenced. “I’ve only got 2.57 to go into the examination. Now let’s see. The examination mark has one-fourth weight. Three times 2.57 is 7.71. This subtracted from 10.00 leaves 2.29. And that’s what I’ve got to make on the exam; I ought to do that.”
“Of course you ought to, Os, and I’m sure you will,” replied Creelton. “You are all right in French and rhetoric, aren’t you?”
“I think so, and I have so thoroughly reviewed the math and worked out so many problems this month that I expect to make much more than a 2.50 on the exam.”
On the examination Ralph worked rapidly and he had a happy feeling he was doing everything right. Two hours were spent on algebra and two on geometry. After the examination he was confident he had made more than the requisite 2.29, but he was feverishly hungry for a sight of the marks.
On a Friday Bollup came into his room and said: “Let’s go down to the bulletin-board, Os; the math marks ought to be posted by this time.”
“All right,” said Ralph, and they went down together. A crowd of midshipmen were eagerly looking at the bulletin-board. On the board was posted a large sheet with the names of midshipmen in two columns, they being graduated according to their excellence. Ralph and Bollup crowded in.
“You’re number two, Bollup,” called some one in the crowd; “Himski is number one.”
Ralph looked up and down the right-hand column, containing the names of the lower half of the class, looking for his own name, as had been his wont. He could not find his name. He glanced up and down again and failed to see “Osborn” anywhere in the column. Then he became worried; he could not imagine why his name should not be there. That it was possibly over in the first column, in the upper half of the class, never occurred to him.
“Good gracious, Os,” suddenly called out Bollup, “but you did everlastingly thump that geometry exam, didn’t you?”
“I can’t find my name,” cried Ralph excitedly; “where is it?”