"Well, you are a stubborn beggar, and no mistake," said his chum, who usually spoke his mind.
The examination was to be held in one of the rooms at the Gayton School, and on the Monday morning the candidates assembled in the big playground.
Jim, who had been granted leave for the day by Mr. Broad, went down with Dick and Tom Moon, who was one of the Magpies. He was feeling wretchedly ill; his head ached, and his brains were all at sixes and sevens. He had worked like a horse all the week to make up for lost time, and was paying the penalty. He had lost all sense of proportion, and it seemed to him that life would be worth nothing if he failed to win this scholarship.
"Hullo!" cried Dick suddenly; "there's Dandy Braithwaite!—Morning, Dandy! Why, you look as pleased as if you'd won the scholarship already!"
"I'm going to have a good shot at it, anyhow."
"Bravo, my boy!—Hullo, Temple! You here?"
"Why not?" asked Temple in surprise.
"I thought you'd more sense, 'pon my word! Now what is the use of you fellows wasting your time when there are three of the Deaneryites in the running?"
The boys who knew the Angel's little ways greeted his remark with good-humoured laughter; the others thought he was a conceited donkey, and some said as much.
"Much plague in India just now, Dicky?" asked Temple mischievously.