“Why, thanks, Brewster,” answered Dan cordially. “That was funny, though, wasn’t it? I’m glad I got there first.”
“So’m I. Hope you beat him.” And Brewster strolled away just as Arthur Thompson came back with his eyes dancing with excitement.
“It’s that pill, Conover,” he said in a low voice. “Everyone else has voted. And it’s fourteen minutes past,” he added, glancing at his watch. “If he doesn’t come in the next minute you’ll win for sure, Dan!”
“Jove!” muttered Dan, looking at his own timepiece. “Say, do you mind asking to have the polls closed as soon as time’s up? It will look better coming from you.”
“I’ll do it, don’t you worry.” Arthur kept his eyes on the minute hand of his watch. Hiltz, surrounded by three or four of his friends, was talking angrily, and referring every few seconds to the watch held in his hand.
“Three-fifteen, Chambers,” called Arthur, stepping up to the desk. “Let’s start the count and get through. Some of the fellows have got to report for football in a few minutes.”
Chambers looked at his own watch.
“All right,” he said. “Has everyone here voted? Is Conover in the room?”
“He will be here in a minute,” called Hiltz. “It isn’t a quarter past yet.”
“My watch says it is,” responded Chambers mildly, “but——”