“You Franck!” he called sharply. “Are you against letting Kreisler play?”
“N-naw!” stammered the man addressed, startled.
“And you, Davies? You, Markovitch? You, Einstein? Jones? Thorburtson?”
“No!”—“No!”—shakes of the head—negatives all.
“Bruce?”
“Jesus Christ! no, Captain! Let him play and—”
Laughter broke out tumultuously, and the chairman pounded with his gavel.
“That’s all,” said Stacey, and sat down.
“I think,” said the commander, when silence had been partly restored, “that it would be unfortunate to divide this organization up into those who saw fighting and those who did not. We should stick together in everything.” But his words were perfunctory. He had been severely wounded at Les Eparges. “All in favor of the motion signify by saying Aye. Opposed, No.”
The motion was lost.