The Witness. Grace Livingston Hill

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      Fortunately his examination began at eight o'clock. If he worked fast he could get done in plenty of time, for the hour of the funeral had been set for eleven o'clock.

      Tennelly and Pat stood and gazed after him aghast when, on coming out of the class-room where he had taken his examination, he declined their suggestion that they all go down to the river skating for an hour and try to get their blood up after the strain so they could study better after lunch.

      "I can't! I'm going to that kid's funeral!" he said, and strode up the stairs with his arms full of books.

      "Good night!" said Pat, in dismay.

      "Morbid!" ejaculated Tennelly. "Say, Pat, I don't guess we better let him go. He'll come home 'all in' again."

      But when they found Bill Ward and went up to try and stop Courtland he had departed by the other door and was half-way down the campus.

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