The next day, Thursday, when Hamlin reached the school-room, he found
there a group of boys eagerly discussing the election and the sudden
and unaccountable change in the sentiments of Company C.
“I can’t see through it,” Raleigh was saying as Hamlin entered.
“Yesterday morning one of the boys told me that thirty-three of the
company were pledged to vote for Griffin, and in the meeting after
drill you know that Coyle declared that thirty-three were pledged to
vote for Graham. There’s something snaky about it all, I believe.”
“So do I,” declared Hamlin. “Coyle’s up to mischief. You know he hates
all of us who have tried to put down disorder in the class, and I don’t
believe he means to vote for Graham any more than he means to vote for
his royal highness, St. John.”
“So I say,” cried Reed. “Coyle’s awful slippery, and he’ll stop at
nothing when he’s made up his mind to put a scheme through.”
Freeman, though not in the battalion, was as deeply interested as those
who were, in the matter under discussion. As he listened to the talk,
he was idly turning the leaves of a copy of the school catalogue which
was lying on his desk.
Suddenly he sprang up and held the book open before Hamlin’s eyes,
while he pointed excitedly to a name in the list of senior pupils.
Hamlin looked at it in a perplexed way for an instant, then he cried
out, “I say, fellows,” but stopping suddenly, he looked keenly around
the room, and then ran and shut the door into the hall.
“Well, what’s the matter with Hamlin? Evidently he’s _not_ all right,”
cried one wonderingly, as Hamlin began:--
“There’s not one of Coyle’s crowd here, so I’ll tell you what’s the
matter with Hamlin. I believe we’ve got hold of Coyle’s scheme, thanks
to Freeman. Look here!”
He held up the catalogue and pointed to one of the names. It was Thomas
Graham Griffin.
“Don’t you see?” he went on. “Coyle and his crowd are going to vote
for Graham, as he said, but it’s Graham Griffin, not Alec Graham. He
counted on our not remembering that Griffin’s middle name is Graham.”
“That’s it, sure as sneezing!” exclaimed Reed, “and Coyle said it to
keep us from trying to get votes for Graham. Well, I call that a right
down mean trick.”
“Here comes Gordon,” cried Freeman, as the door opened, and at once
Gordon was surrounded by the excited group, all trying to tell him the
story at once. He listened with a troubled face.
“Oh, it’s too bad,” he said, when the clamor subsided a little. “If
this is so, Graham won’t be elected at all, and Griffin is no kind of a
fellow to be captain of Company C.”
But now the boys came trooping in, as it was approaching nine o’clock,
and with a hasty word of caution to let no hint get to Coyle of their
understanding of the real state of things, Gordon took his seat.
It was not easy for him and some others, however, to give their usual
attention to their studies, and they were glad when recess set them
free to think and speak of all that was in their thoughts.
Gordon asked permission for a few of the boys to remain in the
school-room during the intermission, and then the situation was
earnestly discussed. The list of members of Company C was carefully
scanned. Some, they knew, would vote for Griffin; some, they were sure,
would not. But there were twenty doubtful ones.
“We must manage to see every one of these twenty,” Gordon said. “Some
of them, probably, are pledged to Griffin, but some, I’m sure, would
rather have Graham over them.”
“Unless Coyle has managed somehow to set them against Graham,”
interposed Hamlin.
“How _could_ he set them against Graham?” said Gordon.
“I don’t know how, but he’s capable of lying to any extent to do it. We
all know that,” answered Hamlin.
“That’s so,” cried several voices.
“Why can’t we go to some of the nice fellows in the company and ask
them point-blank about it?” suggested Clark.
“Yes, why not? Seems to me that’s the thing to do,” said Reed.
“Who’s the best one to do it, then?” questioned Gordon. “If Coyle has
told ’em a lot of stuff to set ’em against Graham, likely he’s said as
much about Hamlin and me, and all the rest of us.”
“Yes, but all the same, some in Company C are real good fellows, and
if they found that Coyle had been lying to them about Graham, they
wouldn’t stand by him or his candidate,” said Hamlin.
“I should think four or five of us could do the business. Each one of
the four, say, might see five of the twenty fellows between now and
school time to-morrow and try to get to the bottom of this, and at the
same time try to get as many as possible of the twenty to vote for
Graham,” said Sherman.
“It’s the best thing we can do,” said Gordon, “though, if they’ve
promised Griffin their votes--” he added doubtfully.
“If they’ve promised because of false statements made to them, they
have surely a right to change their votes,” said Clark.
“That’s so,” said Raleigh; “but see here, can’t we keep this thing
quiet, so that if we do succeed in making enough fellows change their
votes to elect Graham, that Coyle and his crowd shall not suspect it?”
“It _would_ be fine if we could keep them in the dark and turn the
tables on them to-morrow at the election,” laughed Hamlin.
“Wouldn’t it, though!” chuckled Reed. “Let’s try for it, do!”
“I’ll be only too thankful if we can put Graham in, anyhow,” said
Gordon in a troubled voice. “Griffin’s influence is bad--a good deal
worse than Professor Keene suspects, or he’d never in the world allow
him to be a candidate.”
“If that is so, Professor Keene ought to know it,” said Clark.
“Nobody in this crowd goes in for telling tales,” cried Lee, with a
look at Clark that pointed the remark.
Clark colored and turned away, but instantly Hamlin’s arm was thrown
across his shoulders, and Hamlin’s clear voice rang out indignantly:--
“For shame, Lee,” he cried. “We all know that Clark does not deserve
that. I’d like to know if you consider it more honorable to keep still
and let a bad fellow lead a dozen others into evil ways, than to warn
the professor and so save them. For my part, I’d rather be called a
telltale than to feel that I’d had a hand in any boy’s downfall.”
Lee’s face darkened, and he muttered something, under his breath, about
“cowards and cheats.”
It was Gordon who broke the silence that followed.
“_I_ can bear witness that Clark was anything but cowardly in that
affair last year,” he said; “and since I’ve become better acquainted
with him, I’ve been convinced that there was some underhanded work
about that pony business. I mean that somebody else, and not Clark, was
the one to blame.”
“And I know who it was,” added Reed.
At this, all eyes were turned on him, and half a dozen voices cried
out:--
“Who, who?”
For a moment Reed hesitated, then he said, “Henderson had a hand in it.”
“Well, who else? Why don’t you out with it?” questioned Hamlin, eagerly.
“Bet a cooky ’twas Crawford,” cried Raleigh. “It was, it was!” he
added, as Reed colored, and remained silent.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Gordon. “It’s too bad to have anything more come
out against Crawford, now when he’s trying to live down last year’s
record.”
“That’s so,” said Reed, earnestly, “and I’m sorry I spoke, but I’ve
felt for a long time that it wasn’t fair to Clark to keep still about
that. Say boys, if I tell you the whole story, will you all promise not
to repeat a word of it to anyone?”
“Yes, yes,” cried every boy except Clark and Gordon. The latter, less
excitable and more thoughtful than most of the others, said:--
“Hold on--I don’t promise till I’ve thought it all out. If we’ve been
wronging Clark, we owe it to him to let the truth be known.”
But now Clark spoke. “Boys,” he said, “you have been wronging me, for I
never saw that pony until Mr. Horton held it up before me; but if all
of you here believe me, I’m perfectly willing to let the matter rest.
Crawford is having a hard enough time as it is, this year. If he had a
hand in this thing, I’m only too glad to forget it all, if the rest of
you will do the same.”
“Three cheers for Clark!” cried Reed, but Clark interposed quickly:--
“No, no, don’t! We’ll have a crowd in here to know what it’s all about.”
Gordon walked over to Clark and held out his hand as he said:--
“I, for one, have perfect confidence in Clark’s honor, and I _know_
he’s no coward.”
Clark’s eyes were not so clear as usual as he wrung the offered hand,
but he knew that from that hour no shadow would rest on his name in the
minds of those present. No shadow? Ah yes--even in that the happiest
hour of his school life, the shadow of his father’s sin fell upon
him--and the light faded from his eyes and his lips took their old sad
curve, as he turned to Reed, and said:--
“Reed, you _know_ that someone put that pony in my desk without my
knowledge?”
“I do,” said Reed, promptly; “I heard the whole thing planned.”
“Well then, for my sake, I beg that you will never tell anyone anything
more about it. And boys, once more for my sake, don’t let what Reed has
said make any difference in your treatment of anyone in the school.
Will you all promise?”
Very reluctantly was the promise given, but it was given.
After school it was decided that Gordon, Hamlin and Reed should see
that day as many as possible of the twenty boys referred to, in Company
C. Then the three were to meet at Hamlin’s house to compare notes and
see if there was any chance of Graham’s election. If not, they must
decide whether or not they should refer the matter to Prof. Keene.
At ten o’clock that night, Hamlin was walking impatiently back and
forth in the library, listening for quick footsteps or a whistle
outside. He heard the steps at last, and had the door open before the
whistle had fairly sounded, and in another moment he had pushed Gordon
and Reed into a couple of easy-chairs, and was saying, eagerly:--
“Well, what luck did you have? I’m dying to know, as the girls say.”
“Prime luck,” cried Reed, while Gordon added, “We’ll put Graham in,
unless I’m much mistaken.”
“But what did you find out?” questioned Hamlin, impatiently.
“I saw six of the best fellows in Company C. Two of them were going to
vote for Graham, anyhow. The other four were determined _not_ to vote
for him,” said Gordon.
“Because Coyle had told them that Graham wanted to get the captaincy in
order to work up a new scheme that they called self-government?” broke
in Hamlin, rapidly.
“Yes, that was it,” assented Gordon. “If they did but know it, that
self-government scheme is just about the best thing that I’ve heard of
for boys; but they’ve gotten the idea that it means all work and no
play--no freedom or good times of any sort--and when Coyle stuffed ’em
up with the idea that we, you and Graham, and I, had got a goody-goody
sort of plan all fixed and ready to spring on them as soon as Graham
was elected, they all kicked, of course, and agreed to vote for
Griffin--those that didn’t favor Raleigh.”
“Yes, that’s what I found out, too,” said Hamlin, “and that cad of a
Coyle had actually told them that he heard Graham and me talking the
thing over, and, true as you live, I hadn’t heard a word of it until
to-day.”
“Well, Gordon talked some of them over,” put in Reed.
“And Reed talked more of them over,” added Gordon. “He got all the four
he interviewed to promise to vote for Graham, while I only secured
three votes.”
“And I, two. That’s nine out of their thirty-three,” said Hamlin,
exultantly. “So we’ll put Graham in, won’t we!”
“Don’t be too sure. There’s many a slip, you know,” quoted Gordon; “but
I hope the election will go all right now.”
“And won’t Coyle and Barber be mad,” laughed Reed. “I want to sit where
I can see ’em when the vote is announced.”
“If the fellows only keep their word, and don’t let on that they’ve
changed their minds, it will be a big surprise for Coyle. He’ll be
caught in his own trap, for the boys will vote for Graham as he said,
only it will be the other Graham,” said Gordon, rising. “I’ve got to
study till midnight to make up for the time I’ve spent electioneering,”
he added, “but I won’t grudge it if we put in our candidate. I
shouldn’t wonder if, before we get through with this business, Coyle
should find himself doubly caught in his own trap.”
He would not stop to explain his words, but hurried off with Reed,
leaving Hamlin, also, to “burn the midnight oil,” lest he be found
wanting in the class next day.
Lessons suffered the next day, always excepting St. John’s. He,
serenely unmoved by the excitement about him, rendered his Virgil as
smoothly and poetically as ever, while Hamlin and Gordon listened
ruefully, and even Clark felt less ready than usual to take his turn.
But Mr. Horton, whose keen eyes and quick ears kept him better informed
than the boys realized, was very lenient that day. He could not help
enjoying such recitations as St. John’s, but he realized that character
and influence were of far more importance than mere scholarship, and he
knew which boys he had to thank for the change in section D.
When school was dismissed that afternoon, there was a rush for the
hall. Only those belonging to the battalion were allowed to enter
there, but so great was the interest in the election, that very few of
the boys who were not in the battalion went home. They hung about the
corridors and class-rooms, waiting to know the result.
In the hall, an intense interest was manifested as the boys assembled
there. Coyle and Barber looked exultant, but Griffin was nervous and
uneasy, and many of Graham’s friends were nervous and uneasy too. Even
Gordon, Hamlin and Reed, who had most reason to be confident, were not
yet assured of success. They knew not what unexpected turn affairs
might take at the last moment.
Slips of paper and pencils were distributed, and as soon as all were
ready, the slips were collected, and Gordon appointed Hamlin and two
other captains as tellers. The slips were divided into three piles, and
each pile was counted by one captain, and then passed over to a second
to be recounted.
Nobody talked while the tellers worked, and when one of them stepped
forward and handed Gordon a slip of paper, many eyes watched Gordon’s
face, seeking to read there the result. But Gordon’s face told no
tales. There was an intense silence as he rose with the paper in his
hand.
“It gives me pleasure to announce that, by a majority of ten votes, you
have elected Captain Alec Graham,” he said slowly.
Coyle sprang to his feet, with flushed face and angry eyes.
“It’s no such thing!” he shouted; “I charge fraud.”
“_You_ are hardly the one to make such a charge,” said Gordon, quietly;
then he added, “Will all those who voted for Captain Graham, please
stand and be counted?”
At once forty-one boys rose.
“Will Lieutenant Gray please call the names of those standing, and all
who choose can count as the names are called,” said Gordon.
Not even Coyle could deny that forty-one boys acknowledged that they
had voted for Graham. He dropped into his seat looking furiously angry;
nor was this feeling lessened when Gordon quietly remarked:--
“It is singular that you should be so surprised at this result when,
a few days ago, you yourself announced, right here in this room, that
thirty-three of Company C were pledged to vote for Graham.”
Coyle cast a vindictive glance at nine of those thirty-three who had
stood to be counted a moment before, but his reply was muttered too
indistinctly for any but Barber to hear.
The moment the doors were thrown open, the room was filled with a crowd
of eager boys, and the cheers that greeted the new captain were as gall
and wormwood to Coyle. He had burst into a flood of angry blame against
the nine whose change of vote had carried the election so differently
from what he had planned and expected.
“But, Coyle,” one of these said, as soon as he could make himself
heard, “we promised to vote for Graham, and we did.”
“Much you did!” shouted Coyle; “I call it right down sneaky to go back
on your word like that.”
“And what do you call it to lie about a fellow as you did about
Graham?” asked another. “Hamlin says there wasn’t a word of truth in
it.”
“Oh, Hamlin!” retorted Coyle scornfully. “You fellows’ll get enough of
Hamlin, and of your precious new captain. _Won’t_ he make you toe the
mark, though--and _I hope he will_!” he added, viciously grinding his
teeth as he thought how the tables had been turned on him.
But how completely his boomerang had rebounded, he did not know until
two months later.
From the very beginning, Graham won favor with the majority of his
company, but the minority that had wanted Griffin for captain did all
in their power to make it hard and unpleasant for Graham. In this they
were ably seconded, or, more truly, led, by Griffin, who was lieutenant
of the company. He tried in every way to set the men against Graham,
and instigated them to all sorts of trying, vexatious blunders and
disobediences, hoping thus to force Graham to resign. But they did not
know their man. All this fretted and rasped Graham, but never for a
moment inclined him to resign. Instead, the more the boys rebelled
against his authority, the more determined he became to compel their
obedience.
From Company C, the spirit of insubordination began to spread until
it could no longer be ignored, and at last Professor Keene called a
special meeting of the officers to consider what should be done.
During the summer vacation, Gordon had visited a cousin of his who
attended a military school where the self-government plan had been for
some time in force, with great success. Gordon had been several times
on the point of speaking to Professor Keene about this method, but the
remembrance of Coyle’s story, and the effect it had had upon Company C,
had restrained him.
But at this meeting the professor himself introduced the subject,
saying that he had been talking with the principal of one of the large
military schools where this plan was employed, and had been so much
interested in what this gentleman had told him, that he was strongly
inclined to try the method in the battalion.
“One thing is certain,” he said, “and that is, that unless there is
a great improvement in the order and discipline of the companies,
something must be done speedily, even if that something is the
disbanding of the battalion. To disband it would be a disgrace to the
school, and especially to those in the battalion, many of whom, I
know, have done all in their power for order and discipline. It is
a shame for a few, comparatively, to work so much harm to all; but
you can see for yourselves that the present state of things cannot
continue.”
“Professor,” said the captain of Company A, “I’ve heard something about
that self-government plan, and I’d like to know more. Can’t you tell us
all about it?”
“I could,” answered the professor, “but I prefer to let you know about
it from someone better informed. Suppose I send a committee, composed
of officers of the battalion, to the school I have mentioned. There you
can see and hear for yourselves.”
Here Gordon stepped forward and said a few words in a tone too low to
reach any but the professor’s ears. The professor nodded, and Gordon
returned to his seat.
Then the professor dismissed the boys, saying that he would appoint the
committee the next day.
“I’d like to be on that committee,” said Graham. “I never heard of that
self-government plan until the day before I was elected. The talk about
it then set me to inquiring about it, and I’ve heard a good deal of it
lately.”
He spoke clearly and distinctly, so that Coyle, Griffin, and several of
the men of Company C, who stood near, could not help hearing him. One
of the latter looked at Coyle significantly, and whispered, “Regular
boomerang--that scheme of yours, Coyle.”
Coyle scowled, and muttered angrily, “You hush up, Black, if you know
when you’re well off!”