“I don’t care who else is elected,” he said, in a low voice, “but, until we know more about him, I don’t think Parker is the right stamp of man for a Yale captain. So, if it looks as if he were going to be elected, it would be a good thing, if you could do it, to get the election postponed.”
Sherman and Taylor, whose opinion as to Parker agreed fully, and on even better evidence than his, with that of the universal coach, nodded their heads in agreement. Parker, entering at that moment, flushed angrily as he saw what was going on. He had not heard what was said, but he was no fool, and he was well able to guess.
There was no choice on the first ballot. There were three candidates. They were Parker, Jackson, second baseman of the baseball nine, who, as a quarter back, seemed to many the logical captain for the football team; and a big fellow called Jones, the center, who received only four votes.
The other fifteen votes went, eight to Parker, and seven to Jackson, so that neither had a majority of all the votes. Jones, evidently, would withdraw on the next ballot, and both Sherman and Taylor knew that his four votes would be divided evenly between Parker and Jackson, giving Parker the captaincy by a vote of ten to nine—close, but sufficient.
Suddenly Taylor had an inspiration.
“Back me up in this,” he whispered to Sherman, then got up.
“Fellows,” he said, “Danby isn’t here, but I don’t think we ought to finish this election, close as it is, without giving him a chance to vote. It would look as if we were forgetting him and all he did for Yale, just because he has had to leave college. We elected him captain unanimously after the Harvard game last fall, and I move that we adjourn this election now to give him a chance to come here and vote.”
“Second the motion,” cried Sherman, rising at once, and when Dick Merriwell, who presided, put it, the motion was carried with little show of dissent, though Parker was obviously furious.
Dick Merriwell breathed a sigh of relief. He had no feeling of dislike for Parker, for he knew little of him, but he was almost convinced that he was not the man for captain, and he thanked Taylor as they left the building.
“You’ve won this time,” said Parker, coming up to them, cold hatred in his tone as he stared insolently at the universal coach. “But you’ve only postponed it. I’ll be captain of the Yale football team next fall in spite of you, Mr. Merriwell.”