General Chick did not wait long at the armory after his verbal
encounter with Sergeant Barriscale. He knew that he could accomplish
nothing by remaining there, and he had a feeling that if he could only
see McCormack and talk the situation over with him some plan might be
evolved by which threatened defeat would be averted.
He shuffled across the armory floor and out through the big front door
under the tower into the street.
He wondered whether Ben Barriscale really knew what he was talking
about when he claimed to have a majority of seven votes, or whether
his declaration was simply a bluff made for the effect it might have
on his listeners. But he had seemed so confident; his campaign had
been so thorough and systematic, that now, at the close of it, he was
more than likely to be correct in his estimate of the result. It was a
disheartening conclusion to reach, but it was a conclusion that could
not well be avoided. At any rate there was but one thing to do now, and
that was to see Sergeant McCormack, tell him of his rival’s boast, and
consider what, if anything, could be done.
He knew where McCormack lived, and he knew what route to take to get
there. It was already after nine o’clock, and there was no time to
lose. It was a splendid, moonlight August night and there were many
people in the streets. On the bridge that crossed the river a dozen
loiterers stood, singly and in pairs, watching the shimmer of moonlight
on the passing waters. One of them spoke to Chick as he hurried by,
but the boy did not stop to respond; he gave a quick word of greeting
and moved rapidly on. With every step that he took he grew more
and more impressed with the importance of his errand, and with the
necessity of haste in delivering it. He felt that the sooner he could
reach McCormack the greater would be the possibility of averting the
threatened disaster.
In front of the Fairweather Club a man stood in evening clothes,
anxiously scanning the faces of those who passed by. When he saw Chick
coming a look of relief spread over his countenance.
“Chick!” he called, “you’re just the man I’m looking for. I want you to
take a letter to Mayor Toplady for me. It’s got to be delivered before
ten o’clock.”
Chick paused long enough to reply.
“Can’t do it,” he said. “Ain’t got time.”
“There’s a dollar in it for you. You can take the next car that comes
along. You’ll get there in twenty minutes.”
Chick opened his eyes wide. There were not many days in the year in
which he earned a whole dollar. But to-night the offer did not tempt
him.
“I’d like to ’commodate you,” he said; “but it’s jest as I told you; I
ain’t got time. I’m in too much of a hurry.”
“I’ll give you two dollars, Chick. It isn’t every man that comes along
that I can trust. And this is important.”
But the boy was still obdurate.
“I tell you I can’t do it!” he exclaimed. “If they was fifty dollars in
it for me I couldn’t do it. I’ve got an important errant myself.”
And, for the purpose of shutting off further argument and entreaty, he
hurried on.
At the next corner he could take a street-car that would carry him to
within three blocks of McCormack’s home. He thrust his hand into his
pocket for the necessary nickel and found, to his dismay, that he was
penniless. So there was nothing for him to do but to walk the mile up
the hill, unless he could quickly find some one who would lend him
the required car fare. At that moment, as good luck would have it, he
discovered Corporal Manning, of Company E, just entering Wolf’s drug
store. He knew that Manning would lend him the money, for Manning was a
friend of his and had already done him more than one favor. Moreover,
he believed that the corporal was friendly to McCormack and would favor
his candidacy.
As Chick entered the drug store Manning was just seating himself on one
of the revolving stools at the soda-fountain counter. He saw the boy
and called to him.
“Just in time, Chick!” he exclaimed. “Come and have a soda on me.”
Now the love of soda-water was Chick’s besetting sin. He himself
acknowledged that far too many of his hard-earned nickels went to
appease his desire for his favorite drink. But to-night, even though a
sudden thirst overwhelmed him, he put the temptation resolutely aside.
“No,” he said, “I’m jest as much obleeged to you, but I ain’t got time.
I’ve got use for the nickel, though,” he added, shuffling up to the
counter, “if you’d lend me one till to-morrow.”
“Sure!” replied Manning, cheerfully. “Make it a dime.” He produced the
coin and handed it to the boy. “But what’s the great hurry?”
Chick looked cautiously over the near-by patrons of the place before
answering. No one was within hearing. Perhaps he might get a valuable
suggestion.
“Well,” he whispered, “I’m goin’ up to see Sergeant ’Cormack.
Somethin’s got to be done right off.”
“Why? What’s the matter?”
“I jest heard Sergeant Barry say he’s goin’ to beat my candidate by
seven votes. He told the bunch up to the armory. I can’t stan’ that.
We’ve got to do somethin’ quick.”
Manning set his glass back deliberately on the counter.
“I don’t believe it!” he said. “He’s just throwing a bluff. Charlie
Moore and I went over the whole situation not more than half an hour
ago; and the way we figure it Hal will come under the wire with three
votes to spare.”
“You countin’ on Stone an’ Hooper?”
“Sure, we’re counting on them.”
“That’s where you’re way off. They’re for Barry.”
“It can’t be. They’re as good as promised for Hal.”
“Well, I heard Stone say, myself, that him and Hooper was for Barry
because they had to be.”
Corporal Manning sat for a moment in grim silence. “Then I don’t know,”
he said finally, “who you can depend on. Maybe Barriscale will get away
with it after all. He’s a crack-a-jack at wire-pulling. Did you say
there’s a bunch of the boys up at the armory?”
“Yes; dozens of ’em.”
“I guess I’ll go up there myself and see how the land lies.”
“I wisht you would. An’ I’ll go on up to ’Cormack’s an’ see what can be
done.”
Chick shuffled hastily out, but Manning rose from his seat, went to the
door, and called after him.
“You tell Hal,” he said, when the boy came back to the step, “that he
can depend absolutely on Charlie Moore and me. I don’t know whether
he’s counting on us. I haven’t promised him anything; but he ought to
know now on whom he can rely.”
“That’s good!” replied Chick; “I’ll tell him.” And he turned again and
hurried away.
Manning stood for a minute in the store door gazing at the crowds in
the street, and then, without going back to finish his soda, he started
toward the armory.
Twenty minutes later Chick rang the door-bell at the McCormack house.
Hal, himself, came to the door, and, when he saw who was there, he drew
the boy into the hall, and then into the library.
“I know it’s perty late for me to be comin’,” began Chick apologetically;
“but I got somethin’ to tell you, an’ it wouldn’t keep over night.”
“About the election, I suppose?” inquired Hal.
“Yes. Sergeant Barry says he’s goin’ to win out to-morrow with seven
votes to spare. He told that to the bunch up to the armory to-night.”
“He must be mistaken, Chick. I’ve figured it out, and according to my
figures I’ll have a majority of three.”
“You countin’ on Stone an’ Hooper?”
“Yes; they’re friends of mine.”
“Well, they’re no good. They’re for Barry. I heard Fred Stone say so
himself.”
“If that’s so I’ll get left. But I’ve done everything that it’s
possible for any decent fellow to do to get elected, and I’ll have no
regrets on that score.”
It was at this juncture that Miss Sarah Halpert entered into the
conversation. She had been sitting with other members of the family
in an adjoining room, the connecting door of which was wide open, and
evidently she had heard Hal’s remark, for now she came bustling into
the library and stood facing the two boys.
“That’s not so, Hal McCormack!” she declared, “and you know it. You’ve
done precious little to get elected. Why, instead of sitting here at
home to-night calmly reading Karl Marx’s silly book on ‘Kapital,’ you
ought to be out with your coat off and your sleeves rolled up, hustling
for votes, as I’ll warrant you Ben Barriscale is.”
Hal smiled. He seldom took his Aunt Sarah’s scolding seriously. But
to-night she seemed to be more in earnest than usual.
“Why,” she went on, “Chick is worth a dozen of you as a vote-getter.
Here he’s been running his legs off for you for days while you’ve been
dawdling around the house. What is the outlook anyway, Chick?”
“Perty poor, Mrs. Halpert,” was the reply.
Chick always called her “Mrs.” She said she didn’t know why on earth he
did so unless it was because he felt that even if she wasn’t married
she ought to be, so that she would have some one to be continually
bossing.
“Well, where’s your list, Hal?” she asked. “Let’s look it over again.
We’ll separate the sheep from the goats and put bells on them. Then
we’ll know where they are.”
She crossed over and seated herself in a chair by the table, and
beckoned to the boys to join her there. They did so. And when Hal
produced his list, already checked and rechecked, of the names of the
enlisted men in his company, she went over it with them, name by name,
and from the reports which they gave, and from her own knowledge and
opinions, she drew her conclusions and made her division.
“’Fore I forget it,” said Chick, “Co’poral Manning sent word to tell
you that him an’ Charlie Moore is for you. He thought you might not be
sure of ’em.”
“I wasn’t sure of them,” replied Hal. “It was rather a delicate matter
to approach them, and I didn’t do it.”
“Of course you didn’t!” sputtered Miss Halpert. “And there are
several dozen more whom your extraordinary delicacy and modesty have
prevented you from interviewing. Oh, you’ve made a fine campaign--for
self-effacement!” She turned abruptly to Chick. “Chick,” she asked,
“who are the doubtful ones in this whole list? Just give me their names
and I’ll take them down.”
“What for, Aunt Sarah?” Hal scented trouble.
“I’m going to see every mother’s son of ’em to-morrow morning, and find
out what’s what.”
“But, Aunt Sarah, you promised me----”
She turned on him sharply.
“My promise was on condition that you should do something for yourself.
And as near as I can make out you haven’t done a blessed thing. Chick,
give me those names.”
Hal groaned in dismay. He knew, from long experience, the utter
uselessness of making further protest.
“Well,” replied Chick, “there’s Maury an’ Steinman an’ Jarvis an’
O’Donnell, an’--an’----”
“How about Tom Hooper?” inquired Miss Halpert.
“Him an’ Jim Stone’s ag’inst us,” answered Chick.
“What for?”
“No reason ’t I know of, ’cept they’re fixed.”
“Well, they’re not fixed until after I’ve seen them.”
“But,” protested Hal, “you don’t know those fellows, Aunt Sarah.”
“Then,” she replied quickly, “I’ll make their acquaintance. Besides, I
know their mothers, and I guess their mothers will have the last say.
I’ll try it on anyway.”
“Oh, Aunt Sarah! this is not a contest between the mothers of the boys.”
“All right! Make it a contest between their aunts if you like. But the
time has come when I’m going to interfere. Chick, give me the rest of
those names.”
When her request had been complied with, Miss Halpert went over again
with the two boys the entire list and checked up those who were surely
for and those who were surely against the second sergeant, and divided
the doubtful ones according to the probabilities; and Hal was still one
vote short. Then Chick had an idea.
“Where you got Fred Lewis?” he asked.
“He’s against me,” replied Hal. “He works at the Barriscale, and he’s
one of Ben’s right-hand men.”
Chick sat for a moment in contemplative silence.
“I shouldn’t wonder ’at I’ve got a pull with him,” he said finally.
“You’ll have to have a pretty big pull to get him away from Ben,”
replied Hal incredulously. “What do you mean pull, anyway?”
“Oh, I can’t tell you that. It’s somethin’ that him an’ me knows about.
It’s a secret. I’m goin’ to see him anyway.”
He rose from his chair, cap in hand, and faced toward the door.
“Why, Chick!” exclaimed Hal, “you can’t see him to-night. It’s after
half-past ten. He’ll be in bed.”
“Let the boy alone!” broke in Miss Halpert, sharply. “He knows what
he’s about, and you don’t. It’s never too late to get a vote.”
So Chick went out into the night and bent his steps toward the home of
Alfred Lewis, admirer of a girl by the name of Rachael. He, himself,
had no clear idea of what he was going to do or how he was going to do
it. He simply felt that he must find his man if possible, and settle
the question of his vote. Doubtless it was too late in the evening to
see him, as Sergeant McCormack had said; but at least it would do no
harm to try. His way lay across the city, there was no street-car line
reaching in that direction, and it was necessary for him to walk.
When he had accomplished half the distance he found himself out of
breath, and sat down for a little while on the carriage block in front
of a private residence to rest. When he started on again he walked more
slowly. The clock in the tower of the City Hall, a mile away, tolled
out the hour of eleven. He heard it and walked faster. And when he
finally reached the Lewis home he found the house dark, and no one in
the neighborhood. He leaned against the gate where he had left young
Lewis the night he had given him the letter, and wondered what he
should do. Plainly there was but one thing for him to do, and that was
to go home. It would be absurd and unpardonable to rouse the members of
the Lewis household for the purpose of his errand. He faced back toward
the way by which he had come, but before he had moved from his place
he heard the echo of footsteps on the pavement, and discovered a dim
form approaching him. It was a man, and, as he drew near, Chick heard
him whistle softly to himself. He decided to wait till the man should
go by. But the man didn’t go by. He stopped at the gate and looked
inquiringly at the figure standing there.
“Chick!”
“Corp’al Lewis!”
The recognition was mutual and simultaneous.
“Chick, are you waiting to see me?”
“Yes, they’s somethin’ I kind o’ want to ast you.”
“All right! Go ahead and ask it. You’ll never find me in a more genial
frame of mind.”
“Well, do you ’member ’bout that letter I found, to a girl name o’
Rachael?”
“Do I remember about it! Chick, the finding of that letter has made me
the happiest man on earth.”
“That so?” Chick seemed to be a little incredulous at first, but when
he looked into the beaming face of the young man, as the light from the
incandescent lamp at the corner fell on it, he no longer doubted his
words.
“Yes, let me tell you.” Young Lewis came closer and lowered his voice,
although the street was quiet as an African desert, and every house in
the block was closed and locked for the night. “You see, I took that
letter with me when I went there this evening, and I told her about how
you had found it and given it back to me; and, naturally, she wanted
to see it; so, after a while, I let her read it. And that sort o’
broke the ice, and--well, Chick, that girl by the name of Rachael has
promised to be my wife.”
He straightened up, threw back his head and shoulders, and assumed a
wholly monarchical air.
“That’s fine an’ dandy,” said Chick, not knowing what else to say.
“Yes; and let me tell you what she said, Chick. She said that if any
one else had found the letter, and had shown it, and it had become
public property, as it were, and people had identified me as the writer
and her as the proposed recipient, she wouldn’t have married me in
a thousand years; just to punish me in the first place for my crass
negligence, and in the second place to spite the gossips.”
Chick laughed a little. “She’s got some spunk, ain’t she?” he said.
“You bet she has. So you see where you come in, Chick. She’s under
everlasting obligations to you, and so am I.”
The boy shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and reached out
a caressing hand to the gate-post.
“You ’member,” he asked, “what you promised me the night I give you
back the letter?”
“Sure I do. I promised you I’d do you any favor in my power, any time.”
“Well, you can do it now.”
“How?”
“Vote for Sergeant ’Cormack to-morrow.”
Fred Lewis looked questioningly into the eyes of his visitor and for a
moment he did not speak. Finally he said:
“Chick, that’s a poser. You know I work in the Barriscale, don’t you?”
“I know it.”
“And I’m looking for promotion there.”
“I s’pose so.”
“And Ben is counting on my vote.”
“Most likely.”
“Then, what can you expect?”
Chick did not answer the question, but he asked another.
“Ain’t promised him nothin’, have you?”
“No, he hasn’t asked me. He’s taken it all for granted.”
“Well, nobody’ll know how anybody votes.”
“That’s true.”
“And you ain’t got nothin’ ag’inst Sergeant ’Cormack?”
“No; he’s a fine fellow, and he’ll make a splendid officer.”
“Then vote for him. I ask you.”
Again young Lewis was silent. Evidently he was weighing the matter in
his mind.
“Chick,” he said at last, “can you keep a secret?”
“I didn’t say nothin’ ’bout the letter, did I?”
“No, that’s right. Well, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I won’t promise
you a single thing. Mind you, not a single thing. But, Chick, Halpert
McCormack is going to get one vote to-morrow that he’s not expecting.
Do you get me?”
“I got you.”
“All right! Here’s my hand on it. And, Chick, it’s _our_ secret.”
“Criss-cross my heart,” replied Chick.
There was a long hand-clasp, a cheery good-night, and the boy turned
his face toward home. As he went down the hill, and struck into the
deserted Main Street, the clock in the City Hall tower tolled the hour
of twelve.