“Chick,” he said at last, “can you keep a secret?”
“I didn’t say nothin’ ’bout the letter, did I?”
“No, that’s right. Well, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I won’t promise you a single thing. Mind you, not a single thing. But, Chick, Halpert McCormack is going to get one vote to-morrow that he’s not expecting. Do you get me?”
“I got you.”
“All right! Here’s my hand on it. And, Chick, it’s our secret.”
“Criss-cross my heart,” replied Chick.
There was a long hand-clasp, a cheery good-night, and the boy turned his face toward home. As he went down the hill, and struck into the deserted Main Street, the clock in the City Hall tower tolled the hour of twelve.