As to his marching, Ned now had not the slightest doubt. His father said nothing more upon the subject, and silence gave consent.
“My father says we’re going to have a monster rally, too; the night before election,” at last Hal declared, in retort to Ned’s vauntings.
“’Twon’t be as big as ours,” asserted Ned.
“’Twill, I bet,” stoutly returned Hal, sticking up for the honor of the Democratic party. “And I’m going to march!”
“Are you?” queried Ned, feeling as though some of the polish had been taken off his own future.
Of course, there was the remote chance that rain would interfere with the Republicans, or that in some other way the Democrats would be led to outdo them.
“Say—no, I didn’t mean that; but I tell you what,” he proposed, suddenly: “you march with me in our parade, and I’ll march with you in yours!”
“All right,” agreed Hal. “You don’t suppose they’ll care, do you?”
By “they” he referred to Republicans and Democrats in general, who might be disposed to resent such an exchange.