"I'm thirty-one—thirty-two the sixth of next month," blustered Wolcott. "I demand to be sworn."
Driggs drew several papers from his pocket. "I have here," he pursued, "an official copy of Wolcott's application for a marriage license, in which he gives the date of his birth. Also the sworn statement of the physician who presided over his entrance into this wicked world. Also, an official copy of Wolcott's statement to the election registrars of Peoria, where he lives. All these documents agree that Mr. Wolcott is not yet twenty-nine." Driggs leaned back and smiled benevolently at Wolcott. "I think Mr. Wolcott's own testimony would be superfluous."
"This is infamous—infamous!" cried Hugo, hysterically menacing Armstrong with his billycock hat and big driving gloves and crimson-fronted head.
"Of all the outrages ever attempted, this is the most brazen!" shouted Duncan.
"Mr. Chairman," said Driggs, in that same gentle voice, not unlike the purring of a stroked cat, "I believe the Constitution is self-executing. As I understand it, all the proxies collected for the Duncan-Fosdick party are on the same form—the one authorizing Wolcott and two others to cast the vote. Thus, the only legal votes cast are those for the regular ticket."
"The election must be postponed!" Duncan screamed, waving his fists and then beating them upon the table. "This outrage must not go on."
The chairman, Randall, had been a Duncan man. He now fled to the victors. "There is no legal way to postpone, Mr. Duncan," he responded coldly. "No other votes offering, I declare the polls closed. Shall we adjourn until this day week, gentlemen, according to custom, so that the tellers may have time to examine the vote and report?"
Armstrong spoke for the first time. "Move we adjourn," he said, rising like a man who is weary from sitting too long in the same position. Barry seconded; the meeting stood adjourned. Armstrong, followed by Barry and Driggs, withdrew.
As soon as they had gone, Hugo blazed on Duncan. "You are responsible for this!" he cried. "You damn fool!"
Duncan stared stupidly. Then, by a reflex action of the muscles rather than as the result of any order from his dazed brain, his great, fat-cushioned fist swung into Hugo's face and Hugo was flat upon his back on the floor.