"We'll call his bluff, if he does," answered the coach. "See how many of the fellows who used to shout themselves hoarse for the Ramblers have swung over to our side. This indifference stunt is the Ramblers' last grand card. Mercer's face shows that he knows the jig is up."
"We'll play Rockville sure as shooting," said Lawrence. He raised his voice. "Any fellow who hasn't received a ballot please put up his hand. Gee—look at that mean little codger!"
Benny Wilkins, showing all the symptoms of keen enjoyment, was seen running around scattering handfuls of the ballots and leaving a trail of white behind him.
"I'm going to snow 'em under!" he cried. "I crammed sixteen down Parksy's neck. Hooray for the good of the school!"
"An unmanageable little duffer," remarked Brown, gravely. "We ought to vote on the question of allowing him to remain at the High."
As soon as every one had been supplied with a slip collecting of the ballots began. There seemed to be few wavering voters, a fact which gave much encouragement to the "outlaws."
Each box, upon being filled, was rushed over to the table and emptied. Then the tellers began their work of counting.
The great trunk of the elm partly shielded the busy students from a brisk, pleasant breeze, which, having no regard for the importance of the occasion, apparently strove its best to send the white scraps dancing merrily to the ground. The soft music of the gently-swaying boughs above kept up a steady accompaniment to the noises which once more broke out on the campus.
A dense crowd surged around the table, threatening at times to interfere with the work. The Somers party, while refusing to admit the right of the "outlaws" to put the question to a vote, were bent upon seeing fair play. Several of the most aggressive struggled through the mass and took up a position by the table.
"You needn't be afraid, Lou Mercer," grinned Owen Lawrence. "We're giving everybody a square deal. Carried the thing too far, have we? Maybe—to suit you and Bob Somers; not the rest of the school."