"It is unhappily impossible for every boy voted for to win the medal. That is understood. Not alone must he be popular with you all, but he must have stood high in every study and in his deportment as well. Several of those voted for the other day in the informal balloting by the school, cannot possibly receive the approval of myself and the other masters.
"Master Gray, unfortunately, is not eligible; neither is Masters Durrock, Converse, or Spelt. There is no dishonor attached to the records of these boys, but there are other reasons—reasons connected with their standing in class—that make it impossible for us teachers to agree on either of these names.
"Now, boys, on the ballot now handed around, you will have but one choice. And it looks as though your choice had already been indicated. Let me assure you that, if that is so, your teachers are, one and all, in favor of your choice."
There was a murmur of approval—almost a cheer—when the doctor had done speaking. Lots of the boys turned to smile at Bobby. He suddenly found himself very red in the face. Fred looked delighted. Pee Wee could scarcely keep in his seat.
Barry Gray and Frank Durrock passed the papers swiftly, and gathered them again in a few minutes. That the school was almost unanimous could not be doubted.
Mr. Leith and Mr. Carrin counted the slips. There was a bunch of them on one side of the table and only a few on the other side. The doctor rose, smiling with satisfaction.
"My dear boys!" he said, ringingly. "It is a joy to me to find you so nearly unanimous. And you have chosen the boy of whom, above all others, we approve.
"Robert Blake! stand up."
Then they cheered. It was impossible to silence the Lower School, at least, for fully three minutes. Bobby stood, blushing and trembling during this "unseemly riot."
"Robert," said Dr. Raymond, quietly, at last, "you have been a good boy here, and an exceptionally faithful scholar. I have watched your course for the year with interest. You have won out under circumstances that were most trying.