“Written ballots, then—do it the right way!”
“No, no!” “What’s the use?” “Make it a standing vote!” There was a medley of objections.
Sam gratefully caught at the Shark’s hint. He had no hope, now, of avoiding defeat, but it flashed upon him that a secret vote would give opportunity to learn the real division of sentiment in the class. There might be a number of boys and girls who would yield to popular clamor, if called upon to declare themselves openly, but who would vote according to their true preferences under the protection of a secret ballot.
“Except by unanimous consent otherwise, elections have to be by ballot,” he declared, vigorously.
Carson hesitated. Before he could speak, the Shark cut in:
“Of course! Rule—rule everywhere!”
“Show us the rule!” somebody called out.
“No need—if you know anything, you know I’m right,” said the Shark contemptuously, and sat down.
Zorn shrugged his shoulders, as if the point at issue had little interest; and the president, upon whom the demonstration was not lost, reached decision.
“We’ll take a ballot. I’ll appoint Bert Brown and Herman Boyd tellers. They can prepare the slips, and then collect and count them.”