“Fancy Phin Drayne passing in his references for the character ordeal!” chuckled Tom Reade, as the three chums walked down the street.

“What time does the next train leave for Gridley?” suddenly demanded Dave.

“In twelve minutes,” answered Tom, after looking at his watch.

“Let’s run, then!” proposed Dave.

“We can mope, and have five minutes to spare,” objected Reade.

“Let’s run, just the same!” urged Dick Prescott.

The three chums broke into a run that brought them swiftly to the station, red faced, laughing and happy.

“Oh, what a difference since the morning!” sang Dick blithely.  “Say, just think!  West Point really for mine!”

“Bosh!” grunted Darrin happily.  “I’m going to Annapolis!”

Then, as by a common impulse Dick and Dave seized Tom Reade by either hand.

“Tom,” uttered Dick huskily, “we owe you for a lot of the nerve and confidence that carried us through to-day!”

“Tom Reade,” declared Darrin. tremulously, “you’re the best and most dependable fellow on earth!”

“Shut up, both of you,” growled Reade, in a tone of disgust.  “You’re getting as prosy as that Congressman—–­and that’s the most insulting thing I can think of to say to either of you.”

The train seemed fairly to fly home.  It was keeping pace with the happy spirits of the young men, who, at last, came to realize that the great good news was actually true.

Neither Dick nor Dave could think of walking home from the station.  They broke into a run.  By and by they discovered that Tom Reade was, no longer with them.

“Now isn’t that just like old Tom?” laughed Darrin, when he discovered that their friend was missing.  “Well, anyway, I can’t wait.  Here’s where our roads branch, Dick, old fellow.  And say!  Aren’t we the lucky simpletons?  Good night, old chum!”

Dick fairly raced into the bookstore conducted by his parents.  He almost upset a customer who was leaving with a package under his arm.

“Dad!” whispered Dick, leaning briefly over the counter and laying a hand on Mr. Prescott’s shoulder.  “I passed and won!  I’m going to West Point!”

A look of intense happiness wreathed his father’s face and tears glistened in his eyes.  But Dick raced on into the back room, where he found his mother.

“All the luck in the land is mine, mother!” he whispered, bending over and kissing her.  “I won out!  I go to West Point when the month of March comes!”

Mrs. Prescott was upon her feet, her arms around her boy.  She didn’t say much, but she didn’t need to.  After a moment Dick disengaged himself.

“Mother, Laura Bentley will be glad to know this news.  She’s at the ball of the senior class to-night, but I’ll see if I can get her father on the ’phone, and tell him the news for her.”

But presently it was Laura’s own sweet voice that answered over the wire.