“Gee, Dan, you’ll never make a politician,” said Alf. “It isn’t absolutely necessary, is it, that Thompson should be re-elected to the Admission Committee next year?”
“Oh, I see! Still, I don’t see how we could prevent it.”
“I don’t say for certain that we could, but you’re in his class, and I guess if you made up your mind to keep him out, you could do it. All you’d have to do would be to find a popular chap willing to take the place, and run him for all you are worth. Why not make a bid for it yourself? You could beat Thompson easily enough. He’s not especially popular, I guess. Besides, no one cares a whole lot about getting on the committee, anyhow. The honor doesn’t amount to much. Yes, I guess we could cook Thompson’s goose all right if we set out to. In fact, I rather like the idea. I don’t like to be beaten, Dan, and—say, hanged if we don’t get Gerald into Cambridge in spite of Mr. Thompson! What do you say? Will you go in for it?”
“Why, yes, I guess so. I suppose it’s fair enough?”
“Of course it is! Anything’s fair in politics, you know.”
“No, but really, Alf! Would it be all right to scheme around that way?”
“Absolutely!” declared Alf with emphasis. “We want Gerald in Cambridge. There’s no reason why he shouldn’t be there. So we just go ahead and get him there. Come on and let’s find him. Of course, if he’s changed his mind and decides to take Oxford, all right. If he hasn’t, and he asks my advice, I’ll tell him to wait until Fall, and we’ll get him into Cambridge. And you back me up.”
They found Gerald in his room. A glance at his face showed Dan and Alf that he had learned the result of the Admission Committee’s labors, in spite of the fact that he was striving to look unconcerned.
“Say, Gerald, I’m awfully sorry about Cambridge,” said Alf heartily. “It’s a shame. And I’m afraid you’ll hate us for letting you think you were going to make it.”