"On Saturday evening I had occasion to leave my study for rather less than five minutes, shortly after nine o'clock. I had been engaged in getting together the various papers of questions for to-day's examinations, and left them lying on the corner of the table. On returning to my study--I had not been absent five minutes--I found that one of the papers--one of the Nightingale Scholarship papers, which I had only just copied out, was missing. If I were not perfectly sure the full number was there before I left the room, I should conclude I was mistaken, but of that I am sure. I just wish to ask this one question here, which I have already asked in the Sixth. Does any boy present know anything about the missing paper?" You might have heard a pin drop as the Doctor paused for a reply. "No? I expected not; I am quite satisfied. You can disperse, boys, to your various places." "What a fellow the Doctor is for speeches, Wray," said Oliver, as he and his friend made their way to the Sixth Form room. "Yes. But that's a very queer thing about the paper, though." "Oh, he's certain to have mislaid it somewhere. It's a queer thing saying anything about it; for it looks uncommonly as if he suspected some one." "So it does. Oh, horrors! here we are at the torture-chamber! I wish it was all over!" They entered the Sixth Form room, which was regularly cleared for action. One long desk was allotted to the three Nightingale candidates, two others to the English Literature boys, and another to the competitors in a Sixth Form Greek verse contest. Loman was already in his place, waiting with flushed face for the ordeal to begin. The two friends took their seats without vouchsafing any notice of their rival, and an uncomfortable two minutes ensued, during which it seemed as if the Doctor were never to arrive. He did arrive at last, however, bringing with him the examination papers for the various classes. "Boys for the Greek verse prize come forward." Wren, Raleigh, Winter, and Callonby advanced, and received each one his paper. "Boys for the Nightingale Scholarship come forward." The three competitors obeyed the summons, and to each was handed a paper. It was not in human nature to forbear glancing hurriedly at the momentous questions, as each walked slowly back to his seat. The effect of that momentary glance was very different on the three boys. Wraysford's face slightly lengthened, Loman's grew suddenly aghast, Oliver's betrayed no emotion whatever. "Boys for the English Literature prize come forward." These duly advanced and were furnished, and then silence reigned in the room, broken only by the rapid scratching of pens and the solemn tick of the clock on the wall.