“You’re elected, son!” he chuckled. “Get up and make a speech!”
Stuart swallowed hard, grinned in a sickly fashion and shook his head. “All right,” he muttered. “But—but it was a put-up job, Tom!”
“Sure it was!” roared Tom. “It was all fixed. Neil Orr warned us that you’d refuse, and so we had to——”
“Speech!” “Get up there, Cap!” “Speech, Harven!” “Shoot, son!”
Stuart arose, more embarrassed than he could remember ever having been in his life. Comparative silence had been restored and two dozen faces were fixed expectantly on him. But the faces all expressed liking and good will and Stuart found courage.
“I meant what I said, fellows, but it didn’t seem to make much difference. So—well, I accept.”
“You bet you do!” agreed Jack from the end of the board. “You’re elected!”
“All right, but—you’d have done a heap better if you’d selected some one else. Just the same, I thank you, and—and I’ll do my best; and it will be a better best than last time! I made a lot of mistakes, but I’m not going to make them again. Next year things will go a heap better, and if we don’t lick Pearsall to a stiff froth I—I’ll eat my hat!”
Enthusiastic applause greeted that prophecy. When he could make himself heard again Stuart continued. “There’s something else I want to speak about, fellows. We’ve just got to have Mr. Haynes back next year. You don’t need me to tell you that. But I understand that the Committee on Athletics may not be satisfied with his work because we didn’t lick Pearsall. That’s poppycock. It wasn’t his fault. Every fellow here knows that we had a far better team this fall than last. We were in better physical shape and we knew more football. Now it seems to me that it would be a mighty good plan to let the Ath. Fac. know how we feel about Mr. Haynes, let them know that we want him back next year; yes, and the year after that! I propose that we get up a petition and sign it all around and hand it in. It ought to have some weight with them, and as I understand that they are to make a decision the first of next week, the sooner we do it the better. That’s all, I guess. Except that I thank you fellows again for the honor you have done me.”
Stuart sat down again while the table cheered long and heartily. Thurston sprang to his feet, but, seeing that Mr. Haynes was also standing, seated himself again. “After you, Coach,” he said.