Incessant calls for information regarding the vote were hurled toward the table. The boys found it hard to restrain their impatience. Only the stern commands of Brown and Lawrence kept a semblance of order.
As the work neared completion the excitement became so great that a wildly-clamoring mob threatened to descend upon the table and sweep it, workers and ballots, irresistibly aside.
"You'll undo the whole business!" shouted Lawrence, in alarm. "Keep back! We'll know the result in a few minutes. Stop your shoving and pushing over there. I'll say this much: it's a landslide for——"
"The good of the school!" came a rousing chorus.
"Yes! You've hit the ball on the nose."
At frequent intervals the cheering was renewed. The tabulators worked desperately, and when the returns, added on a sheet of paper, were handed to Brown, who was still standing on the soap box, he was obliged to yell himself hoarse.
"Keep still!" he bawled, holding the paper high above his head. "Keep still! The result is——"
"Order, order!" shouted Lawrence, frantically.
In the midst of a temporary hush, Brown's voice rose clearly.
"Out of a total of four hundred and nineteen voters only thirty-seven have decided in favor of the regular club; ninety-eight are for reorganization; two hundred and eighty-four—two hundred and eighty-four, mind you—a tre-men-dous majority, have come out squarely in favor of the 'Hopes.'"