Lester stood perplexed; that his tragic speech should be greeted with laughter was a thing for which he was quite unprepared. “I ought to have withdrawn my name instead of allowing it to be voted on,” he said, and again he was interrupted.
“Sit down!” shouted some one.
“Forget it!” cried another.
And both outcries brought great demonstrations of approval from the audience.
“I’m not going to sit down, and I can’t forget it,” Lester said with a flash of spirit. “I wish I could. I’m here to tender my resignation as first marshal, and I hope you will accept it unanimously.”
“Why?” shouted several voices.
“Because I’ve done a thing that makes me unfit to hold any position of honor or trust in the class,” said Lester firmly.
“What was it?” demanded some one.
Then there was a hush. Lester looked out over the audience; his face was pale. “I stole a fellow’s theme and passed it in as my own,” he said. “I’m through. Elect some one else.” He stepped down from the platform and took his seat while his classmates sat in silence.