“But they may not want it,” answered Andy. “Look at me, for instance. I don’t want to be an officer, and neither does Randy. And Gif here would rather continue at the head of our athletics.”
“Yes, but you fellows are not the whole school,” declared Jack, with a smile.
“I know lots of fellows who want you to run,” declared Spouter. “And you say the word and I’ll go around and do a lot of electioneering for you.”
The matter was talked over a good many times, and fully twenty of the cadets came to Jack and told him they wanted him to run for the office of major. And finally he consented.
“Hello, here’s news!” burst out Fatty Hendry, one day, as he joined his chums. “It’s the richest thing ever,” and he grinned broadly.
“What’s that?” questioned Dan Soppinger, who was present.
“I just heard through Teddy Brown that Brassy Bangs wants to run for major. That he even told one of the professors about it.”
“Why, he can’t do that!” declared Fred quickly. “That is, not without special permission from Colonel Colby or Captain Dale. The major is always chosen from among the captains and lieutenants, or those who have been officers before. That is, if there is any one to pick. It’s only Colonel Colby or Captain Dale who can declare the election open to any one. You can’t put a fellow who has just learned to handle a gun to march at the head of the battalion.”
“Well, of course Brassy didn’t know that, and he wouldn’t believe it until Captain Dale explained it to him. And then he said he thought he ought to be able to hold the position because he was one of the best shots in the school.”
“Well, he certainly is a good shot,” declared Fred. “I saw him shooting at a target one day and he certainly made some marvelous hits.”