Follow My leader Part 67

"Ah! about time, too," thought d.i.c.k, as he raised his voice in a defiant cheer. He'd like a quiet five minutes with the fellows who had dared to pa.s.s his chum by in the voting. But, at any rate, Georgie was safe, and, if only Coote came next, the "Firm" could afford to snap its fingers at its const.i.tuents.

"Cazenove."

What! fat Cazenove jammed in between the "Firm" and its junior partner!

d.i.c.k and Georgie glared at him, scarcely able to repress a howl at the sight of his smiling expanse of countenance. It had never occurred to any of them that the ballot may part friends whom not even a sentence of transportation could have severed, and they looked on, now more than half bewildered, as the scrutineer read out the sixth name.

"For the sixth place," said he, "there appears to be a dead-heat.

Calverly and Coote have both the same number of votes. What's to be done, mighty Lycurgus?"

"Say you retire!" shouted d.i.c.k to the astonished Calverly, on whom the announcement had fallen with as much surprise as it had on his friends.

"Don't you do anything of the sort," shouted Gosse; "you're are as good as that lot. Stick in!"

"Of course he will," shouted others.

So Calverly announced he would stick in, and Coote had better retire, a suggestion Coote did not even condescend to notice. He was in his "Firm's" hands, and the "Firm" were determined to fight the thing out till they had not a toe to stand on.

"The simplest way," said Freckleton, "is to vote again for the two.

What do you say, gentlemen of the Den?"

"All right," roared the Den.

"What's it to be: ballot or show of hands?"

"Show of hands," shouted most of them.

"Do you agree to show of hands, you two," said Freckleton, "or would you sooner have ballot?"

"I'd rather have show of hands," said Calverly.

"So would Coote," shouted d.i.c.k and Georgie.

"Then those who vote for Calverly hold up one hand," said Freckleton.

It was a big show, and the scrutineers, as they went from bench to bench, counted 141.

"Now for Coote."

Every one could see it was a terribly close affair. As d.i.c.k and Georgie scanned the benches, their hearts sank at the sight of so many not voting.

"Another dead-heat, I expect," said Pauncefote.

The suggestion drove d.i.c.k almost frantic. Coote _must_ come in, or the consequences would be awful.

"Now, you fellows," he cried, starting up and addressing Templeton generally, as the scrutineers started on their rounds, "all together for old Coote! Don't forget his trot with the Harriers!"

This simple election speech called forth a cheer, and, better still, sent up two or three more hands.

Loud cries of "Order" from the top end of the room prevented any further appeal, and amid dead silence the scrutineers finished their work.

"For Coote," announced the spokesman, "there are 146."

Then did the "Firm" go mad, and lose their heads. Then did they yell till their throats were hoa.r.s.e, and wave their hands till their arms ached.

Then did they link arms, as they sat victorious, and forget the sorrows of a term in that one paean of victory.

"Very close," they heard Freckleton say, as soon as order was restored.

"Are you satisfied, Calverly?"

Woe betide Calverly had he ventured to be otherwise!

"All right," he said, meekly, cowed by the mighty triumph of the "Firm."

"Then Coote is in," announced the scrutineers.

The election was over, and Freckleton was about to disperse the meeting, when it was noticed Pledge was on his legs, trying to speak.

A low hiss and groan went round the Hall, but curiosity to hear what the deposed monitor had to say at such a time restored order.

Three boys alone knew what it all meant, and their faces blanched, and their limbs shook, as they looked out from their retreat and awaited their fate.

"Perhaps," said Pledge, "as this is a public meeting, you will allow me, though I have not the proud honour of being a 'Sociable,' and although I believe I am not a monitor either, to ask a question. I a.s.sure you I do it in the interests of Templeton, and of your immaculate Club. I don't suppose any one will thank me for doing it, and I am glad to say I have ceased to expect thanks. You may attribute any motive you like to me; the worse it is, probably, the better you will be satisfied. I certainly shall not trouble to tell you my motive, except that it is for your good. All I want to ask is, whether this meeting is aware that three members of the new Club are at this moment under the eyes of the police, for a disgraceful act of theft committed in the town; and, if so, whether you think that fact increases their claims to become members of a Club which is to be a credit to Templeton?"

The speech was heard in dead silence. But as it closed, a storm broke forth from all quarters of the Hall.

"Name! Sneak! Cad! Name!"

The angry spots blazed out in Pledge's cheeks as he faced the storm and heard the cries.

"You want the names, do you? You think, perhaps, I do not dare to give them. I do dare, though I stand here single-handed. The three boys are Richardson, Heathcote, and Coote, and if you don't believe me, ask them."

Another dead silence followed this announcement, and all eyes turned to where the "Firm" sat, pale and quivering.

Before, however, they could say a word, Mansfield rose, and stepped up on to the platform.

"Pledge has, for reasons best known to himself, charged three boys here with theft. Unlike his usual manner, he makes the charge in public before the whole school; and that being so, it is only fair the whole school should hear from him and his witnesses, if he has any, what the theft is."

The Captain's words were greeted with cries of approval from the meeting, and every one turned now to Pledge.

He stood a moment irresolute, scowling at his arch-enemy, and longing to be able to include him in the accusation he brought against his _proteges_. Then, with a half-swagger, he stepped on to the platform.

"If the Captain thinks I'm afraid to do what he asks, he's mistaken. I don't believe in hole-and-corner business. And as he has challenged me to accuse his three young friends in public and bring my witness, I will do both."

"What witness?" groaned Heathcote, in a whisper to d.i.c.k.

"Don't talk to me," hissed d.i.c.k, between his teeth.

"Go on," said Mansfield, to the accuser.