Helen Allen had been chosen to make the presentation address, because she was known to be the best speaker among Columbia’s fair ones. And both Paul Bird and Ralph West thought her the prettiest girl in the wide world as, with rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes, she told what pride the sisters of the Columbia boys took in their sterling fight for the baseball pennant. If there was one disgruntled fellow in that big hall it must have been Lef Seller, who had seen so many of his schemes for getting even with his rival, Frank Allen, go astray of late. He had come because somehow he could not keep away; but during the exercises, while everybody else seemed to be filled with delight, Lef could only grit his teeth, and mutter low threats to himself, still cherishing the hope that the day would come when fortune might once more shine upon him, to the confusion of his enemies. Although the school term was nearly ended that seemed to be no reason for Columbia High losing all interest in outdoor sports. There were other days to come, and that not far distant, when these sturdy lads of the banner high school would meet again in friendly struggles with their student rivals of Bellport and Clifford. Something of the nature of these contests may be gleaned from the title of the next volume in this series, to be called, “The Boys of Columbia High on the River; or, The Boat Race Plot That Failed.” It will be found crammed full of the further doings of these wideawake lads, in whose fortunes we have found ourselves so deeply concerned. While the yearly examinations were being conducted as usual, Ralph found it exceedingly difficult to concentrate his mind on his work. He knew that Judge Allen had taken passage for Europe, in order to follow up the mysterious travelers, who had last been heard from in Italy. So the school year closed in a blaze of glory. Principal Parke declared they had never known a more successful season, and with the percentage so high. The graduation exercises passed off without a hitch; nor was the electric current cut off on this occasion, as had happened once before, when mischief-makers severed the wires, and lamps had to be brought in so that Lanky Wallace could complete his declamation. Ralph was frequently in consultation with his good friend Frank, while he waited to hear from abroad. “What would I do without you, Frank?” he said, as they sat under the apple tree on that July morning just a day or two before the Glorious Fourth. “Oh, you’d manage to get on all right,” returned the other, quickly. “Cheer up, old fellow. It’s always darkest just before dawn. You’ll get a letter any day now, and perhaps written by the one you are longing to hear from most. Try and put it out of your mind for a bit, and think of the great times we expect to have on the river.”