THE SECOND BALLOT.
Our fellows could not help giving three cheers when the major read the
result of the vote. Tommy’s face was red with rage and mortification.
I do not know whether he expected, or even feared, the election of
another in his place; but I do know that his tyrannical, and his
supercilious behavior towards his equals had received its just reward.
After the cheering had ceased, all parties looked to the Major to
ascertain how he bore his defeat.
By this time Haven rushed to his assistance, with words of consolation
if not of hope. He had made a discovery which, in the excitement of
the scene, had escaped the notice of most of us. He spoke with Tommy,
took the paper from which the major had read the result of the vote,
and, after examining it for a moment, spoke a few earnest words to his
superior whose face suddenly brightened.
“Officers and soldiers,” the major began, after he had glanced at the
paper again, “it was plain enough to me from the beginning that no fair
election could be had in the midst of this excitement.”
“It would have been fair enough if you had been elected,” growled a
fellow in our ranks.
“It is not fair whoever is elected: and I for one will not submit to
it.”
“The vote has been declared and Briscoe is major!” shouted Bowles, who
regarded himself as in some sense the guardian of the purity of the
election.
“There was cheating in the election and I object to the result,” said
Haven. “There are but one hundred and fifty in the battalion and one
hundred and fifty-three votes were cast.”
“Very likely there was other cheating,” suggested Tommy, who perhaps
really believed that he had been defeated by fraud.
“Let’s have it over again,” said Lennox, the first lieutenant of
Company B.
“Mr. Commander!” called Faxon.
“Lieutenant Faxon,” replied the major.
“I move that we proceed to a new election for major.”
“Second the motion!” promptly added Lennox.
“It is moved and seconded that we proceed to a new election,” said
Tommy. “Are you ready for the question?”
Haven proceeded to make a speech, in which he attempted to show why it
would be better to defer the election. Faxon, who was a ready debater,
controverted the argument. Several spoke on each side, but finally the
question was put, doubted, a count taken, and the postponement rejected
by “a strict party vote,” which indicated a majority of twenty for the
opposition. Again Tommy consulted Haven and several of his principal
supporters. It must have been evident to him that he could not be
elected.
“Officers and soldiers,” said he, when we had waited until our patience
was nearly exhausted, “I had hoped that you would consent to defer this
election for a few days. It was my intention, if I had been elected, to
resign in a short time.”
“What a fib!” growled one of our men.
“We have accepted an invitation to drill with the Wimpletonians for a
prize. We are in no condition to do so now, with the battalion in a
state of mutiny. If you will postpone the election till next Monday, I
will say that I shall not be a candidate.”
“No! No!” shouted our fellows.
“Mr. Commander, I rise to a point of order,” said Lennox.
“State your point,” replied Tommy.
“Whether, the battalion having voted to proceed with the election of
major, any other business is in order.”
“I made a proposition to the battalion to defer the election,” answered
Tommy, a little ruffled.
“We have just voted not to postpone,” added one of our party.
“And we have just voted to have the election now,” said another.
“Mr. Commander, I move that the roster be used as a check list to
insure fair play,” continued Faxon.
“Second the motion.”
The motion was put to vote and carried.
“Mr. Commander, I move that Lieutenants Haven and Faxon, and Sergeants
Hacker and Langdon, be a committee to check the names, and to receive,
sort, and count the votes,” said Lennox.
“Second the motion,” added Bowles.
“It is customary for the commander to appoint committees,” interposed
Barnscott.
“The rules say, ‘unless otherwise ordered,’” replied Lennox. “I believe
my motion is in order.”
“It seems to me this is a very fair thing, two on each side to check
the names and superintend the voting,” said Corporal Dunbold.
“The motion is not in order,” replied the major. “The chair has always
appointed committees of this kind.”
“I appeal from the decision of the chair,” promptly returned Lennox.
“An appeal from the ruling of the chair is taken,” continued Tommy,
vexed to find himself trammelled by the parliamentary usage, to which
he had always been a fanatical adherent. “Are you ready for the
question?”
“Question!”
“The question is, Shall the ruling of the chair stand as the sense of
the battalion? Those in favor of sustaining the ruling of the chair
will say, ay.”
“Ay!”
“Those opposed, no.”
“No!”
“The ayes have it, and the ruling of the chair is sustained.”
“I doubt that vote,” said Faxon.
The battalion was divided, and the question was decided against the
chair by the opposition majority of twenty. Tommy bit his lips; but as,
according to the “sense of the battalion,” the motion of Lennox was in
order, he was obliged to put it to vote. Of course it was carried by
the usual majority. The committee were directed to take their stations
by the tin kettle on the rock. The roster was brought out, and Faxon
and Haven appointed to check the names, while the other members of the
committee were to watch the voting. Fair play having been thus insured,
the voting commenced. As there no longer appeared to be any danger
of a collision between the two parties, our forces broke ranks. Then
commenced the most tremendous “lobbying” and “log-rolling” that had
ever been known in any of our deliberative bodies.
Tommy did not give up the battle. He and his toadies coaxed, teased,
threatened, and persuaded. Places on the Lake Shore Railroad and places
in the battalion were offered to our fellows; but all of them were
shrewd enough to see that the major’s party was not the winning one.
On the other hand, the votes already taken indicated that Briscoe was
certain to be elected by a handsome majority. Boys, like men and rats,
are ready to desert a sinking ship. The “lobbying” was not all on one
side. In half an hour every name on the list was checked. The committee
proceeded to count the votes.
The most intense excitement reigned on the bluff. Groups of officers
and privates engaged in earnest discussion; and, passing near Tommy
Toppleton, I was not a little surprised to hear him say that he
expected to be successful. I concluded that he had lost his senses, or
was merely keeping up appearances for a few moments longer. Perhaps
he expected Haven, who was chairman of the committee, to change the
current in his favor, or at least to discover some irregularity in the
proceedings which would justify a postponement.
“The committee are ready to report,” said one of the privates; and
the word passed through the camp, bringing all discussions to a sudden
conclusion.
“Mr. Commander,” said Haven, approaching the major with a paper in his
hand.
“Lieutenant Haven,” replied Tommy.
“The committee appointed to sort and count the votes have attended to
that duty, and respectfully report: Whole number of votes, one hundred
and fifty. Necessary to a choice, seventy-six. Thomas Toppleton has
fifty-eight; Robert Briscoe ninety-two, and is elected.”
The Briscoeites repeated the cheers they had given before, but with
even more energy than on the former occasion. The result showed a gain
of seven votes, and the cheering indicated a still larger reënforcement
of the opposition from the other side. Again every eye was turned to
Tommy, to ascertain whether he intended to submit to the will of the
majority. Most of us expected something in the shape of a protest from
Haven; but he performed his duty without comment of any kind. When the
chairman of the committee reported, I was quite near the major, for I
had no idea that we had reached the conclusion of the whole matter.
“What does this mean, Haven?” demanded Tommy, in a low tone, when the
report had been read.
“I could only declare the vote as it was,” pleaded Haven.
“But there is something wrong,” protested Tommy.
“I could not find anything;” and Haven shook his head, to indicate that
he had done his best for his friend, but had failed to find a flaw in
the proceedings.
“What shall I do?” asked Tommy, sorely vexed at the situation.
“I don’t know,” answered Haven, blankly.
“I don’t believe it is a fair thing. I don’t understand it.”
“Neither do I; but I don’t see any way to get round it.”
Tommy had been such a devoted adherent to parliamentary strictness,
that he felt obliged to read the report of the committee, as it was
given to him. Although it almost choked him to do so, he declared that
Briscoe was elected major.
“I wish to add,” he continued, with much embarrassment, “that I think
there is something wrong somewhere. I submit to the change only under
protest.”
“What is the matter?” demanded some one in the crowd.
“I have tried to do everything for the good of the battalion, and I
don’t know of any reason why I should be treated in this manner. An
officer under suspension for disobedience of orders is elected in my
place. This does not look right to me, and I don’t think your action
will stand long.”
“Briscoe! Briscoe!” shouted the boys, not pleased with Tommy’s threat
to have the election set aside.
In answer to the call, the new major mounted a rock, and, after he had
been warmly applauded, made a short speech, thanking the battalion for
the honor it had done him, and promising to discharge the duties of the
office to which he had been elected to the best of his ability. We were
then dismissed for dinner.