"Of course," he was saying, "there's absolutely no question—I'm putting in for the job, and if anyone else thinks he'd like it, let him say so." He stared round with a somewhat truculent expression. "Here's Symonds and Faraday—they'll bear me out in this, I know."
It was a direct challenge.
"Bear you out in what?" asked Symonds quietly.
"Why, my filling Dick's place as president—you're agreeable, aren't you?"
"I don't know so much about that, I was thinking of taking it over myself."
"Hear, hear!" said an invisible Cree, behind Cummy's back. He wheeled round and frowned upon the party.
"Now, what are the laws of electing the president?" he asked.
"Nominations first, and then a show of hands—that's all we've got to do. It's quite simple." He took a seat and addressed the assembled Crees. "I'm in the chair—any nominations for Chief Cree?"
"I propose Les Cummles," said one of the bully's toadies, with clockwork readiness.
"Good—seconded? Thank you. Now, anybody else?"