He dropped into his chair, while the secretary, a very methodical man, drew from his portfolio a contract duly drawn up save for the signatures of the officers of the district, and the name and signature of the teacher-elect. This he calmly filled out, and passed over to the president, pointing to the dotted line. Mr. Bronson would have signed his own death-warrant at that moment, not to mention a perfectly legal document, and signed with Peterson and Bonner looking on stonily. The secretary signed and shoved the contract over to Jim Irwin.
“Sign there,” he said.
Jim looked it over, saw the other signatures, and felt an impulse to dodge the whole thing. He could not feel that the action of the board was serious. He thought of the platform he had laid down for himself, and was daunted. He thought of the days in the open field, and of the untroubled evenings with his books, and he shrank from the work. Then he thought of Jennie Woodruff’s “Humph!”—and he signed!
“Move we adjourn,” said Peterson.
“No ’bjection ’t’s so ordered!” said Mr. Bronson.
The secretary and Jim went out, while the directors waited.
“What the Billy—” began Bonner, and finished lamely! “What for did you vote for the dub, Ez?”
“I voted for him,” replied Bronson, “because he fought for my boy this afternoon. I didn’t want it stuck into him too hard. I wanted him to have one vote.”
“An’ I wanted him to have wan vote, too,” said Bonner. “I thought mesilf the only dang fool on the board—an’ he made a spache that airned wan vote—but f’r the love of hivin, that dub f’r a teacher! What come over you, Haakon—you voted f’r him, too!”
“Ay vanted him to have one wote, too,” said Peterson.