It was evident that the arguments advanced had been effective. Every boy and girl present signed the roll. When Doris had counted the names she announced that the Toby Clark Marching Club now numbered sixty-seven members.
“We’ll make it an even hundred in a few days,” declared Don exultantly. “And now we’ll have the election of officers. All in favor of me for captain say ‘aye.’”
“Hold on!” cried Al, jumping up. “That isn’t fair. You promised they should vote whether you or I should be captain.”
“That’s all right,” said Don. “If they don’t elect me they can vote for you.”
“Can’t anyone else be it?” asked a big boy anxiously.
“No,” replied Don. “It was my idea, and Al printed the invitations on his press. One of us has got to be captain and the other lieutenant. But there’ll be lots of other officers.”
“Listen to me,” said Becky. “I know how to run an election. I’ll give each one a piece of paper, and each one must write ‘Al’ or ‘Don’ on it, whichever they want for captain. Then Doris and I will collect the papers and count ’em, and whoever has the most will be elected.”
There being no objection to this plan it was carried out. When the papers were counted Al had twenty-six votes and Don forty-one.
“Are you sure you counted right?” asked Al in a disappointed tone.
“Count ’em yourself, if you want to,” replied Becky.