But the figure only yanked its bloomers higher above knees, giving more freedom for action, and clearing every sort of woody obstacle, dashed on. Dozia gave a muffled "Coo-ee." She required help to overtake the spy. And the chimes were striking seven--the hour of attack! A runner known by her stout stick and shorter skirt answered the coo-ee call immediately. When within hearing Dozia ordered:
"Go ahead! Don't mind me! I will take care of Forty-Eight," and back to the now moving line the runner made her way to relay Dozia's answer.
"Now!" signalled Judith. "One, two, three! Go!"
The rush that followed this order did full credit to the wild occasion. Scrambling, pushing, urging, shoving, all fighting to gain entrance to Oak Hall, and there to hold the fort against the opposition, the mass of determined girls forced their way on.
Those who actually fell by the wayside were automatically picked up, and carried on with the tide, so that once the hall was reached it took but a few seconds to surround the ballot boxes, secure the official blackboard, and begin the election before the other side had recovered from its shock of surprise, caused by the commotion.
Judith was chairman of candidates. It was her duty to report on nominations. Edith Lee and Minette Brockton were clerks of election; Dorothy Blyden and Grazia St Clair, inspectors. Judith jumped to the platform over the foot lights (unlighted to-night) and reached the rostrum without the slightest hint of formality. Forthwith she shouted:
"We are here to elect the class president for '20. We have a candidate unanimously chosen. I shall give the name to the clerk."
She then passed to Edith Lee a slip of paper. From this Edith promptly read:
"Jane Allen, '20."
There was a roar of applause, and then followed a mumble of objection. The applause attempted to drown the call for an opportunity to be heard.