"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 minutes of eight. Then he led his friends from the restaurant and down the street to the town hall.
Here, though most of the young men were already on hand, there was nothing of boisterousness. Some were quiet; others were glum. All showed how much the result of the examinations meant to them.
But the time dragged fearfully. It was twenty minutes of nine when Congressman Spokes appeared on the platform and rapped for order. He did not have to rap twice. In the stillness that followed the Congressman's voice sounded thunderous.
"Young gentlemen, I now have the results from all the examiners, and the averages have been made up. I am now able to announce my appointments to West Point and Annapolis."
Mr. Spokes paused an instant.