“‘But I will put it into the hand of them that afflict thee; which have said to thy soul, Bow down, that we may go over: and thou hast laid thy body as the ground, and as the street, to them that went over.’” Dr. Collins ceased and closed the Bible. There was a moment’s pause and the subdued shuffling of feet and moving of bodies. Then came silence again and the invocation and, at the last, the Lord’s Prayer, the boys reciting together. Toby always liked to hear that. It sounded to him like the boom of the sea back home, and thrilled him. When heads were lifted once more, he became conscious of an undercurrent of excitement, of suspense. The hall was unusually still. The boy on his right, a thin, earnest-looking youth with a pair of eye-glasses set on the ridge of a long nose, sat up straighter and more tensely, and Toby thought he breathed faster than was natural. Toby didn’t recall the fellow’s name, but they had several recitations in common. In front of him two boys were whispering together, but so softly that he could hear no sound. On the platform Doctor Collins was turning the papers in his hands, and, presently, having sorted them to his liking, he began the announcements. Three students were summoned to the Office; notice was given of a lecture on Stevenson next Tuesday evening at eight; a course in Bible History open to First and Second Class students would begin Monday; those desiring to join would give their names to Mr. Thurman; until further notice, the library would be kept open until ten o’clock at night, in response to a number of requests. Doctor Collins laid these notices on the desk, cleared his throat and began again. Toby heard the boy on his right take a long breath. “In assigning scholarships,” began Dr. Collins, “the Faculty judges the merits of the applicants, as you doubtless know, on three grounds: scholarship, character and pecuniary need. At present the School has at its disposal twenty-six endowed scholarships, and for the current year they have been assigned as follows.” Toby’s heart was doing queer things between his stomach and his throat. He wondered if the others were as surprised as he. Then he realized that every one else had known the announcements would be made here and now; that the under-current of excitement of which he had been dimly aware had been due to that knowledge. He plunged his hands into his pockets and doubled his fists tightly. He, too, was breathing hard and fast now. His thoughts were horribly jumbled, and he wondered where Arnold was, wished he was here, was glad he wasn’t, told himself he had absolutely no chance for a scholarship, hoped frantically that he had, and all in the small fraction of time that lapsed while Doctor Collins settled his glasses more firmly.