After a rapid glance at the paper, Dick settled to work with a pleasant smile; the questions were just to his liking, and he felt sure of doing well in the morning at least. Braithwaite, too, seemed satisfied, while Temple used his pen as if he were master of the situation. The one boy in the room who appeared ill at ease was Jim Hartland. His face was hot and flushed; there were drumming noises in his ears; letters and figures, all jumbled together, danced wildly before his eyes. At the end of the first half-hour his paper was still blank. Long afterwards, in talking about the examination, he told me that, but for the examiner, he does not think he should have written a single word. That gentleman, seeing something was amiss, went over, and laying one hand on the boy’s shoulder, said kindly, "Are you ill, my lad?" The sympathetic tone seemed to break the spell, and looking up, Jim answered, "My head aches a bit, sir, but it’s getting better now. I think I can make a start." "That’s right, my boy. Time’s flying; but you must do your best." "Yes, sir," said Jim gratefully, and by a great effort he managed to concentrate his attention on the questions. Once started, he worked feverishly to make up for the lost half-hour; but at one o’clock he had to hand in his papers without having gone over them a second time. Fortunately the interval was too short for comparing notes. There was scarcely time for more than a rush home, a hurried meal, and a run back to be ready for the opening of the doors. At the gate Jim overtook Braithwaite, who, much to his surprise, said in quite a friendly way, "Done pretty well, Hartland?" "Pretty well, thanks; how did you get on?" "Prime! The questions were just made for me." Just then the Angel came along. "I say, Dandy," he cried, "how came you to be doing Euclid this morning?" "Euclid? I wasn’t!" "What were you drawing, then?" "Why, a map of the United States!" "Oh!" The blue eyes opened wide with assumed wonder. "I thought ’twas a figure in Euclid." "Don’t be such a fool!" said Braithwaite testily, while the others laughed. "Wasn’t the arithmetic beastly stiff?" grumbled Tom Moon. "Did anybody do that thing about the two trains passing each other?" "Oh, that was easy enough!" laughed Temple. "It worked out to thirty-seven seconds and a half." "I got that," said Braithwaite. "So did I," cried Dick, throwing up his hat. "Well done, Boden, my boy; you’ll pull this scholarship off yet!" Jim said nothing, but his skin burned like fire as he remembered that his answer was more than an hour and twenty minutes. Just then the doors were opened and the boys trooped into their places. While waiting for the papers to be given out he recalled the sum in question, and soon found what a ridiculous mess he had made of it. "It’s no use," he thought to himself bitterly; "as likely as not I’ve made as big a hash of the rest."