"I am sure that through the votes you give us," corrected the speaker, "the field which Mr. Barry has offered will become the property of the school. A decisive victory, fellows, will show those who have been so stubborn and unyielding that they dare not hide any longer behind their refuge of regularity." He turned toward the table. "Get busy, boys."
A half dozen lads, each carrying a box filled with slips of white paper, at once began working their way through the crowd.
"Don't miss anybody!" yelled Dan Brown. "And just let me say this: The fellows who fail to vote are mollycoddles. We'll find out who they are."
"Give me a slip—quick!" cried Benny. "I want to vote for the Ramblers. No; I won't shut up, Dan Brown. You never gave me the note-book you promised. Hooray for Roycroft! Get away from here, Aleck Parks. Your language is always rude."
"In order to avoid mistakes or squabbling over the result we ask every student to put his name on the ballot!" called Brown.
The noise and arguments ceased. Every lad felt the importance of the proceedings and wished, if possible, to end the unfortunate situation which had hovered over the school for weeks. In their eagerness to get the slips of paper a jostling, clamoring crowd besieged each holder of a box. Occasionally a small shower fell to the ground, to be pounced upon by those nearest at hand.
"It doesn't seem as if there are any mollycoddles here to-day," exclaimed Owen Lawrence, triumphantly. "See 'em, Earl Roycroft—almost scrapping for the ballots. What are you looking so sad about?"
"I feel sorry for the Somers crowd," answered Earl. "They're all good chaps; and we must give Bob a lot of credit for starting the athletic association."
"And us the credit for putting the useless thing out of business," interposed Brown. "It might be a grand proposition for the school if the chaps who compose it weren't so blind."
"Do you suppose Bob Somers will have the nerve to fight the verdict of the school?" asked Lawrence.