THE ELECTION
Dick was seen to stagger, and it was no wonder, for Ray Dutton was no
light weight.
"Let me help you!" shouted Paul, as he ran toward his chum. He grasped
the limp legs of the unconscious cadet, while Dick carried the
shoulders, and together they hastened on.
"Back! Get back!" cried Dick again, as his schoolmates crowded up around
him and Paul. "The explosion will come any minute! There's fire in
there!"
"Back this instant, every one of you! You can't do anything more!" cried
Colonel Masterly sternly, and the boys knew it was now time to obey.
Those holding the hose lines dropped them, and the crowd of
fire-fighters surged back.
"Is Dutton dead?" gasped Paul.
"Not dead--and not hurt much, I hope," answered Dick. "He was overcome
by the powder fumes--there was a little explosion almost as soon as he
got inside--some sparks must have blown in the window. But he saved
Grit."
"And you saved him."
"Come on, we'd better get farther back!" cried the young millionaire as
Paul hesitated, and was about to lay Dutton down. "The force of it
will----"
His voice was drowned in a detonating report, and the darkness of the
night was lighted by an intense glare. The powder house had blown up,
and the wind of the concussion knocked down Paul and Dick in a heap with
the unconscious Dutton. Other cadets who had not run far enough back
were also bowled over.
Then came intense blackness, following the bright flash and this was
succeeded by the patter of small missiles tossed into the air by the
force of the powder.
"Jove, I hope none of the chunks of concrete come this way!" cried Paul
as he got up. "Are you hurt, Dick?"
"Not a bit of it. Look at Dutton though."
"He doesn't seem to be," answered Paul, as he looked at the unconscious
cadet as well as he could in the dim light that came from a few
scattered and burning embers blown here and there by the explosion.
"Oh--I'm--I'm all right," gasped Dutton, as he slowly sat up. "What
happened?"
"My it sounds good to hear you speak again!" cried Dick, as he put his
arms around his friend and assisted him to arise. "You were overcome in
there when you went in to get Grit, and I took you out. Now the whole
thing has gone up, but it doesn't seem to have done much damage."
Scores of cadets now crowded around the three lads. The rain of missiles
had ceased, and quick inquiries showed that beyond a few scratches or
bruises no one was seriously hurt. The heavy concrete side of the walls
of the powder house had merely toppled outward, almost in four solid
pieces, and it was only the light wooden roof, purposely made so, that
had been much shattered. It was the fragments of this that had rained
down.
The fire was effectually scattered by the explosion and what little
remained was quickly extinguished by the janitors with pails of water,
and one hose line. The other had been blown apart and was useless.
Colonel Masterly and the other instructors went about among the lads,
making sure that none needed hospital treatment. They came to where
Dick, Paul and Ray stood.
"Hamilton, let me congratulate you on your pluck and daring in saving
your comrade's life," said the colonel gravely, as he shook hands with
Dick in the light of several lanterns that had been brought up. "It was
a brave act."
"Well, he saved Grit, and it was the only way I could pay him back,"
replied our hero simply, as he fondled the dog that leaped up on him
with demonstrative affection.
"I couldn't bear to hear Grit howl," explained Ray, who had now
recovered from the powder fumes. "Let's go see if the Sacred Pig is
much damaged," he added quickly, for neither he nor Dick liked to pose
as heroes.
"I fancy the building is not much harmed," spoke the colonel. "Most of
the force of the explosion was upward. You young gentlemen deserve a
vote of thanks from the faculty for the manner in which you acquitted
yourselves to-night, and I will see that you get it. Now we had better
go back to the dormitories. The night is rather chilly." Indeed it was,
lightly clad as everyone was.
Beyond a few shattered windows, and some broken glassware in the pantry,
the society house of the Sacred Pig was not damaged, at which the cadets
were very glad. The excitement quieted down, and after the doctor had
looked over Dutton, and pronounced him safe and sound, the students went
back to their beds, but hardly to sleep much.
An investigation was made the next day, to discover if possible the
cause of the fire, but beyond the fact that it had started in some
refuse of the shed nothing could be learned.
"It was careless on my part to allow the shed to be there," said the
colonel. "When we rebuild the ammunition house I will have it placed
farther off, and there will be no wooden structures attached to it. We
must not risk another accident like this."
In view of the fire, lessons were suspended that day, and only a short
drill ordered. When this was over the electioneering began again, for
in the afternoon the selection of the football captain was to be made.
There was quite a change of sentiment, and Paul Drew found that he had
to do very little pleading now to get the promise of votes for Dick.
"It was the pluckiest and nerviest thing I ever saw done," declared
Harvey Nolan, one of the new cadets, who had hitherto resisted Paul's
pleadings, being firm for Dutton. "I like Ray immensely, but I think
I'll vote for Hamilton."
"If this keeps on it will be unanimous for him," said Paul in delight.
He was hardly prepared for what followed.
The cadets were assembled in the gymnasium, and Mr. Martin, by request,
was presiding over the important session.
"I understand you are now ready to proceed with the election for a
captain and a manager," began the Yale coach.
"Sure," came the inelegant but hearty reply from several.
"There are three candidates," went on the coach. "Mr. Hamilton, Mr.
Dutton and Mr. Rutley. How will you vote, by ballot or acclimation?"
"Ballot--ballot!" came the cry.
"Very well, then I will appoint the tellers, and you----"
"One moment, if you please," interrupted Dutton, as he arose. "There
has been a slight mistake made. There are only two candidates in the
field--Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Rutley. I wish to withdraw in favor of Mr.
Hamilton. You--you all know what he did last night--for me," faltered
Ray, and his voice was a trifle husky. "After that I could not stand
against him in the election."
"Yes, you will--I insist!" cried Dick, jumping up. "I don't want you to
withdraw."
"You can't help yourself, old man!" cried Ray heartily, playfully
shaking his fist at Dick. "I want all you fellows who were going to vote
for me to vote for Dick Hamilton--that is unless you are committed to
Frank Rutley," and he bowed in the direction of that cadet.
"No one can vote for me--I'm out of it!" called out Frank. "I'm for
Hamilton."
"Hurray!" cried Paul Drew.
"Three cheers for Dick Hamilton!" sung out someone, and how those cheers
were given!
"Do I understand that both you young gentlemen withdraw?" asked Mr.
Martin.
"I do," answered Ray.
"Same here!" called Frank.
"Then, as there is but one candidate in the field, perhaps it is
unnecessary----"
"I move that Dick Hamilton be unanimously elected captain of the
Kentfield football eleven, by acclimation, and long may he wave o'er
the team of the strong and the team of the brave!" cried Dutton.
"Second it!" cried Frank.
"All those in favor of this motion will signify it by saying 'yes,'"
called the coach.
"YES!" was the reverbrating shout that fairly made the walls ring.
"Then Dick Hamilton is the football captain, and I beg to extend him my
congratulations," said Mr. Martin.
"And I, also," added his colleague, and the two coaches stepped from the
platform, and advanced toward the blushing young millionaire, while his
friends crowded around him to do him honor.