“Like as two peas in a pod,” replied Coyle, promptly.
“Well, then, I’ll vote for Griffin. He’s as good in the drill as either of the others, and who cares for two or three credits less in his average?” said a third.
“That for his average,” cried another, snapping his fingers. “This is our last year in the old battalion, and I’d rather Company C would carry off the prizes in the next annual drill than to come out number one in the school myself.”
“Well,” said Coyle, “You know Griffin can’t be beat as a drill-master, and he’s a jolly good fellow besides, and not the one to be always snooping around to see if a man happens to have a cigarette or a pack of cards in his pocket. We don’t want a straight-laced parson like Graham put over Company C. Why not all vote for Griffin and done with it? I think it would be fine, anyhow, to carry the election against Gordon’s candidate. Gordon thinks he’s a bigger man than Professor Keene himself, and it would take him down a peg or two to see Griffin put in place of his shadow, Alec Graham.”
“’Twould be a good joke on Gordon, wouldn’t it!” remarked one.
“Make him open his eyes a little.”
“And show him that somebody else in the school besides himself has a little influence,” added Coyle, cunningly fanning the flame that he saw he had kindled.
Before the bell rang, all in the group had agreed to vote for Griffin. This made thirty so pledged, besides Griffin himself, Coyle and Barber, and one of the other captains, thirty-four in all, which would give Griffin the majority. Coyle and Barber were outwardly quiet, but inwardly jubilant.
The next morning, Coyle went to school with a new suggestion, over which he and Barber chuckled delightedly before they talked it over with the Griffin faction.
After drill that day, a meeting was held to talk over the election, the officers being anxious to get an idea of what the boys of Company C meant to do. Their surprise was unbounded when Coyle announced that he could speak for thirty-three who would vote for Graham.