Both of the chums had reason to realize the weight of their debt to jovial, helpful Reade; who was banishing care and keeping their minds off their suspense.  In fact time passed quickly until it was time for Dick and Dave once more to part, to seek their separate examinations.

Just forty of the boys who wanted to go to West Point had passed the doctors as being presumably fit in body and general health.  Twenty-seven of the Annapolis aspirants had passed the doctors.  Already three dozen disappointed young Americans were on their way home, their dream over.

Tom Reade chose to walk over to the local High School with Dick.  Dave found his way alone to his place of examination.

Dick Prescott and the thirty-nine other aspirants were assembled in one of the class rooms at the High School.  On each desk was a supply of stationery.  After the young men had been seated the examination papers in English were passed around.  This examination Dick thought absurdly easy.  He finished his paper early, and read it through three times while waiting for the papers to be collected.

History was a bit harder, but Dick was not especially disturbed by it.  Not quite so with geography.  Dick had had no instruction in this branch since his grammar school days, and, though he had brushed up much of late on this subject, he found himself compelled to go slowly and thoughtfully.  Arithmetic was not so hard; algebra a bit more puzzling.

It was after six o’clock when the examinations were finished, and all papers in.  As fast as each examination was finished, however, the papers had been hurried off to the examiners and marked.

Faithful Tom was waiting as Dick came out in the throng.

“Congratulations, old fellow!” cried Reade, holding out his hand.

“You’ve passed,” announced Tom gravely.

“Why, the examiners haven’t fin-----”

“They don’t have to,” snorted Tom.  “I don’t have to wait for the opinions of mere examiners.  You’ve passed, and won out, I tell you.  Now let’s go look for Dave.”

It had been agreed that the three should meet, for supper, at the same restaurant where they had lunched.  Darrin was not there yet.  It was nearly seven o’clock when Dave came in, looking fagged and worried.

But Tom was up on his feet in an instant, darting toward Darrin.

“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.”