Barber, seeing that the tide of feeling was with the last speaker, jumped up, and, with a good-natured laugh, exclaimed, “Don’t lay that little hiss up against me, boys. It was only a whistle that slipped up on my front teeth.”
The laugh that followed scored one for Barber and the candidate that he favored.
But Coyle’s quick eyes had been watching the faces of the boys, and now he sprang up again.
“It’s getting late,” he said, “and I move that we adjourn, and meet again Wednesday after drill. That will give us all time to think the matter over, and make up our minds whom we’ll vote for. But see here,” as a general movement expressed the approval of the motion to adjourn, “don’t forget that Griffin stands A No. 1 in tactics, and we all want to win the gold medal and red ribbons next June.”
“Three cheers for Coyle and Griffin,” shouted somebody, and in two minutes the room was empty; but as the boys hurried homeward, the talk was all about the election.
Coyle and Barber were the last to leave the room.
“I’d like to punch the heads of some of those fellows,” growled Coyle. “If the company would only go solid for Griffin, it wouldn’t matter how the officers voted.”
“No, we’d have nearly two-thirds majority,” answered Barber, “and I’d give something to see Graham and Raleigh defeated. I believe I care more for that than to put Griffin in. They’re all so mighty high and tony in section D this year, a fellow can’t have a bit of fun. Might as well be in a reform school, and done with it.”
“Right you are,” responded Coyle. “Gordon and Hamlin have managed somehow to get hold of about all the section except you and me, and they’ve set ’em all to digging. Not much like last year, is it? Who’d ever have believed that Crawford would go over to the L. A. O.! He’s as meek as Moses now-a-days.”
“So he is,” echoed Barber, “an’ if we have Graham or Raleigh for captain, the drill will be as bad as the school-room. They’ll make the fellows toe the mark and be down on ’em like sixty for the least thing wrong.”