"And the rest will be easier." Twenty minutes later Dave Darrin join them.
"I've passed---that part of the trial," he proclaimed.
"Then, until twelve o'clock, there's nothing to do but go out and kill time," declared Reade.
"Twelve o'clock" repeated Dick.

"You mean one o'clock." "I mean twelve," retorted Tom, with emphasis.

"At twelve you eat; you don't gorge, but you chew and swallow something nourishing.
Then you'll be in fit shape for the little game of the afternoon." Both of the chums had reason to realize the weight of their debt to jovial, helpful Reade; who was banishing care and keeping their minds off their suspense.

In fact time passed quickly until it was time for Dick and Dave once more to part, to seek their separate examinations.
Just forty of the boys who wanted to go to West Point had passed the doctors as being presumably fit in body and general health.
Twenty-seven of the Annapolis aspirants had passed the doctors.
Already three dozen disappointed young Americans were on their way home, their dream over.
Tom Reade chose to walk over to the local High School with Dick.
Dave found his way alone to his place of examination.
Dick Prescott and the thirty-nine other aspirants were assembled in one of the class rooms at the High School.

On each desk was a supply of stationery.