“That’ll do for ’em,” said that delighted schemer; “they won’t let ’em in, you bet. Look out—they’re going to vote for secretary now.”
The Classical side candidate for this important office was Ranger, almost as great an idol in his house as the captain himself. His Modern opponent was Dangle, a clever senior, reputed to be Clapperton’s toady and man-of-all-work. It was felt that if he were secretary, there would be a strong Modern bias given to the clubs, which in the opinion of the Classic partisans would be disastrous.
The show of hands had been taken for Ranger, and every one was silent to hear the figures, when a hideous clamour arose at the door, with shouts of—
“Open the door I let us in. Cheats! Fair play!”
To D’Arcy’s satisfaction, as from the safe shelter of a front place he peered down that way, the Moderns held their post at the door and refused to let it open. For a minute it looked as if they would succeed; when suddenly the irate Wally appeared on the scene, followed by Fisher minor, and shouting, “Cheats! cads! Let our fellows in!” went for the obstructionists.
“Stupid ass!” growled D’Arcy. “It’s all up now. Why couldn’t he have let them be?”
A short and sharp mêlée followed. The Classics were reinforced rapidly, and the Moderns, seeing their plot detected and fearing the intervention of the seniors, sullenly raised the blockade, and allowed the door to open.
Whereat in tumbled Percy Wheatfield with five young Moderns at his heels—the very five who had been waiting for the clock to strike in Wally’s study.
“What do you mean by keeping us out!” demanded Percy of his brother, who chanced to be the first person he encountered.
“What are you talking about?” retorted Wally, extremely chagrined to discover who it was he had been helping. “We were the chaps who let you in! It was your own cads who were keeping you out. Ask them.”