Migwan made an effort to still the wild beating of her heart and read the questions through.  They all appeared easy to her, as she had had such a thorough preparation.  George Curtis groaned to himself as he looked them over, for there were two which he saw at a glance he would be unable to answer.  Abraham read his and looked thoughtful.  Migwan wrote rapidly with a sure and inspired pen until she came to the last question.  There she halted in dismay.  The question was in the Ancient History group and read, in part, “Who was the invader of Israel before Sennacherib?” For the life of her she could not think of the name of the Assyrian invader.  Last night the whole thing had been as clear as crystal in her mind.  She thought until the perspiration stood out on her forehead; she tried every method of suggestion that she knew, but all in vain; the name still eluded her.  While she was trying so desperately to recall the name, George Curtis in the seat behind was watching her.  By chance he had caught a glimpse of her paper, and saw the figure 10 followed by an empty space, so he knew that it was the tenth question she was having trouble with.  This happened to be one he knew and he had just written it out in a bold, black hand.  He was out of the race for the prize, for there were two whole questions left out on his sheet.  By certain signs of distress from the two girls behind him he knew that they, too, were out, and it now lay between Migwan and Abraham.  Abraham was not very well liked by the boys since the affair of the statue.  George despised him utterly, and he could not bear to think of his winning that prize.

He watched his chance.  It came at last.  The teacher dropped her pencil behind her desk, and in the instant when she was picking it up he reached out and pulled Migwan’s hair sharply.  When she turned around in surprise he framed with his lips the name “Sargon.”  She understood it perfectly.  Then came a mental struggle which matched Sahwah’s terrific physical one that day in camp.  On one side college stood with its doors wide open to welcome her; she heard the plaudits of her friends who expected and wanted her to win the prize; she saw the joy in her mother’s face when she heard the news; she heard the heartfelt congratulations of Nyoda and the Winnebagos who would share in her glory.  On the other hand she heard just five ugly words echoing in her ears. “You didn’t win it honestly!" She tried to stifle the voice of science.  “I knew it perfectly all the time,” she said to herself, “and it only slipped my mind for an instant.”  “But you forgot,” said the voice, “and if he hadn’t told you you wouldn’t have known.”