"No, but you remember the old rivalry. I'm afraid it will make talk, but I want to say right here and now that if he is elected he won't have any better friend than I, and I'll play my head off to help his team win!"
"We all know that!" cried Paul, looking at his chum admiringly. "It goes without saying. Now I'm off to see some more of the first year fellows."
"Don't make too much of a fuss about it," begged Dick. "Don't make it look as though I'd give my head to be elected. I want it, of course, but——"
"I understand!" cried Paul lightly as he hurried off.
As the time for election drew nearer the excitement increased and there were all sorts of rumors floating around. Votes were openly bought and sold, but in a friendly, boyish fashion, the inducements being nothing more important than "treats" or some special favors. Some even traded the horses assigned to them in the cavalry drills, one cadet getting a handsome black he coveted in exchange for a rather poor roan, but Dick gained a vote thereby.
Paul Drew was a faithful lieutenant in his chum's cause, and he did valiant work. As for the young millionaire and Dutton, they kept discreetly out of it. They met several times during the course of the first day's electioneering, and gaily chaffed each other on the chances they stood.
"I hear you won't have one vote, 'Ham,'" laughingly declared Dick's former enemy.
"That's right," half-seriously assented our hero. "I told all my friends to vote for you."
"So I heard. Kind of you. Come on over and I'll buy you a soda."
"No. They're on the forbidden training menu now."