"Yes. And those Rover boys worked against both of you, too," piped in Codfish, who was present. "I watched 'em do it. They went all around among the fellows they know electioneering for the others who were running."
"It would be just like them to do it," muttered Nappy Martell, gloomily.
"I thought you were going to fight that Jack Rover to a finish some day?" questioned the sneak of the school.
"So I am—when I get the chance," returned Martell.
As soon as the election of officers was settled, the minds of a certain number of cadets turned to football. Gif Garrison was busy arranging his teams and placing the names of the players up on a big board in the gymnasium.
"Hurrah!" shouted Fred, bursting in on Jack one afternoon while the latter was busy in his room studying the next day's lessons. "Our names are up on the board, Jack! Gif has put us up for a try-out on the scrub eleven!"
"Is that so!" exclaimed his cousin, his face showing his satisfaction. "Are you sure?"
"I am. I just came from the gymnasium. We are to report for practice to-morrow afternoon at four o'clock."
"Is Andy or Randy up?"
"No. You remember they told Gif they didn't want to play football this season."