Kitabı oku: «Dick Merriwell's Trap: or, The Chap Who Bungled», sayfa 6
CHAPTER XII – A WARM MEETING
There was excitement enough that night when the meeting was called in one of the classrooms to elect a member to fill the place made vacant on the athletic committee by the resignation.
Not all the students at the academy took an active interest in athletics, but the crowd that pressed into the room filled it to an uncomfortable degree.
The friends of Chester Arlington had been hard at work that day, and they were confident that Chester would win. He had resorted to the methods of a politician, many of which are questionable. He had money, and he knew how to spend it to make an effect.
His most formidable rival was George Hardy, and Hardy had never been a popular man at Fardale. Still, it was said that Hardy would carry the day in case Dick Merriwell came out openly and took sides with him. This Dick had been urged by his friends to do.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Already they say I run the team as I choose, that I have worked all my friends on to it, and that it is not fair. I am going to keep out of this affair and let the boys settle it as they like.”
Brad Buckhart pulled hard for Hardy, but he found it difficult to unite Dick’s friends on that candidate. It was only by convincing them that Chester would surely win if they did not unite that he succeeded.
There was a third candidate who entered the field late in the day. It was Joe Savage.
Now, Savage was known to be friendly in his talk toward Dick Merriwell, and many of Dick’s friends regretted that he had not decided sooner to take a hand in the struggle. As it was, the most of them had been pledged to Hardy by the energetic and wily Buckhart.
Brad had grown confident as the time for the meeting drew near.
“If all the fellows who have talked favorable stand by Hardy, we’ve got that Arlington crowd buried,” he said.
But Buckhart had to learn that pledges and fair talk may not always be relied on, a fact that many a defeated politician has discovered to his sorrow.
The Arlington workers continued their efforts right up to the time the meeting was called to order.
Elmer Dow, who had managed the basket-ball team once, was chosen chairman and mounted the platform. Having called the meeting to order, he suggested that a committee of three be chosen to count the votes, for it was already settled that the candidate should be elected by written ballot.
Instantly Buckhart was on his feet, proposing the name of Dick Merriwell. Somebody hissed. That hiss was enough to start an uproar. In a twinkling it was demonstrated that Dick had plenty of friends – in fact, that the great majority of those present were his friends.
When silence was restored, Dick rose and was recognized by the chairman.
“Gentlemen,” he said quietly, “I think it will be far better to select on that committee those who are not too closely connected with the eleven. For that reason I must beg you to excuse me from serving.”
“No, no, no!” roared the cadets.
“Merriwell! Merriwell!” they stormed.
The Arlington crowd seemed silent. Chester had not failed to note that Dick had not openly entered into the contest against him, although he had expected something of the sort. However, he did not wish to see Dick on that platform.
The outcries showed that the meeting insisted on having Dick serve as chairman of the committee to count the votes.
“Mr. Merriwell,” said Dow, “I think you had better reconsider. You can plainly see that you are wanted on this committee, and you will do a favor to the meeting by serving.”
“Merriwell, Merriwell!” came from every side of the room.
“All right,” smiled Dick. “If I am chosen, I will serve, Mr. Chairman.”
Dow put the vote at once.
“All those in favor of Mr. Merriwell manifest it by a show of hands.”
“Up, up!” was the cry. “Up hands!”
“It is a vote,” said Dow, looking over the demonstration of uplifted hands.
No one doubted it, and Dick was called to the platform. Ned Stanton’s name was next proposed, and there was no opposition. Then Brad Buckhart was nominated. This raised another uproar, for Brad had plenty of enemies. A strong opposition was shown at once.
Brad said not a word, but mentally he observed:
“Well, if I’m elected you bet your boots I’m going to serve! I am, I know!”
The vote was taken by a show of hands. Brad’s friends came out strong at this, but the vote was immediately doubted. Then there was a showing of hands, while the chairman surveyed the gathering.
When he called for the contrary-minded it was seen that Brad had won, and he was called to the platform. He was given a round of applause as he took his seat with Merriwell and Stanton.
Then Dow got up and made a brief speech, in which he suggested the advisability of getting as good a man as possible for the position. A few moments later, amid the greatest excitement, the balloting began.
“Here are your Arlington votes!” cried a fellow climbing on the seats near one aisle. “Right this way for your Arlington votes.”
“Arlington, Arlington!” shouted another fellow, standing on the seats near another aisle. “The entering class must have a man on that committee. It’s no more than fair. Vote for Arlington. Here you go!”
In fact, it seemed that fellows with Arlington votes were everywhere, and these votes they urged on every one. Those who favored Hardy were not as well prepared with votes, and Buckhart grew uneasy as he sat and watched the workers for Chester Arlington getting rid of their ballots.
“If that galoot is elected, Dick can blame himself,” thought the Texan. “He might have crushed Chester Arlington with a word, but he would not say that word.”
Dow watched the voters closely as they filed past the ballot-box. He had a sharp pair of eyes, and he was looking for “stuffing” and for “repeaters.”
“Hold on!” he suddenly exclaimed, closing the box with a snap. “You have voted before, Macomber! That kind of work will not go here, and I want everybody to understand it!”
Macomber tried to pass it off as a joke.
“I believe in voting early and often,” he said.
“You may vote as early as you like, but once on a ballot is the limit,” said Dow.
Macomber passed on, and the ballot-box was reopened.
“How is it going, do you think?” asked Stanton, of Buckhart.
“Blowed if I know!” confessed Brad, in a low tone. “But I’m afraid Arlington will carry it.”
“Too bad!” said Stanton, and the Texan knew for the first time just how the third man on the committee stood.
The entire counting-committee was unfavorable to the plebe who sought a position on the athletic board.
Arlington’s friends knew this, and some of them commented on it.
“What kind of a show has Chet got with those fellows to count the votes!” said one.
“He wouldn’t have a show if Merriwell was not on the committee,” said another. “Merriwell is square, and you can bet your life Chet will get the position if he’s elected.”
The voting took some time. When it seemed all over Dow rapped on the table beside him and asked if the votes were all in.
“Hold on!” was the cry from the rear.
Into the room a fellow was dragged by three Arlington workers and rushed down the aisle. He was red in the face, but cast his vote, laughing as he did so.
“Here comes another!” shouted a voice.
Another fellow was marched down the aisle by an Arlington worker.
“Bad!” growled Buckhart. “And no one working against the fellow like that! Bad, bad!”
At last there seemed no more to vote, and the polls were declared closed. A few moments later, amid breathless silence, the counting began. Would Arlington win?
Ted Smart, Billy Bradley, Chip Jolliby, Bob Singleton, and Hugh Douglas were in a group at the rear of the room.
“Dear me!” said Ted. “How slow this is! Why, there’s nothing interesting about it!”
Singleton was watching Buckhart’s face.
“I’m afraid Arlington has won,” he said.
“What mum-mum-makes you think so?” chattered Jolliby.
“Buckhart looks worried.”
“Hi ’ave an idea it is very close, don’t y’ ’now,” said Bradley.
The votes had been sorted into three piles, and the committee went over them again. The gathering was pretty quiet now, as it was a time of great anxiety. Chester Arlington seemed confident. He was smiling and serene.
Buckhart was seen making some figures, but Dick Merriwell, who watched him, shook his head and seemed pointing out a mistake. Brad nodded, and then the slip of paper with the figures on it was passed to Dow by Merriwell. Dow rapped for order.
“Gentlemen,” he said, “you will listen to your vote. Whole number of votes cast, 238. Necessary for choice, 119. George Hardy has 102; Chester Arlington, 97; Joseph Savage, 39. Therefore, there is no choice, and another ballot – ”
The rest of his speech was drowned in the roar that rose. Chester Arlington had not won. Hardy led him by five votes.
“Fraud, fraud!” cried somebody.
Instantly there was a surging mob round the fellow who uttered the accusing cry. Arlington’s friends were disappointed. They had anticipated throwing at least a hundred and fifty votes.
“Shut up that fool who is crying fraud!” commanded Chester. “If you don’t, we’ll get it in the neck sure.”
So the one who made the cry was choked off immediately.
Another vote would have to be taken, and now the disappointed Arlington crowd set to work with redoubled earnestness. Chester went among them, assuring them that he believed the count had been fair.
“Then how can you account for our failure to poll the number we expected?” he was asked.
“Simply by the fact, as it seems, that a number of those who took votes and promised to support me failed to do so.”
A large number of cadets had remained away from the meeting, but now the workers rushed away to various rooms, determined to bring out every one who could be induced to come. Many a fellow who declined to come, or tried to beg off, was brought along by main force and rammed into the crowded classroom.
“It’s going to be a heavier vote this time,” said Dick.
“You bet,” nodded Brad, who still looked worried. “I opine Arlington will carry it on the next ballot.”
“What makes you think so?”
“I’ll bet he has twenty fellows pulling ’em in. If he doesn’t make it, I shall be relieved.”
“If he doesn’t make it this time,” said Dick, “his chance will grow slimmer.”
“What makes you think so?”
“His friends have secured this vote for him by their hard work, and they’ll have trouble to hold the fellows they have dragged in here. Arlington is not really popular.”
But Brad grew more and more nervous as the voting continued. The Arlington crowd made lots of noise, and it seemed that the majority of those present must favor him.
As before, Elmer Dow was keenly on the alert to prevent fraud, and “repeating” was not attempted. One “call down” had been given, and that was enough to make the tricky fellows wary.
After a while the voting decreased. Three times Dow asked if all the votes were in, and each time from the rear of the room came a shout for him to hold on. He waited as one last voter was hurried down the aisle by the Arlington workers, and then he declared the balloting closed.
“Arlington has carried it,” said Singleton regretfully.
“Hi don’t believe hit!” exclaimed Billy Bradley.
“I’m gosh-darn afuf-fuf-fraid of it!” admitted Chip Jolliby.
The gathering watched the counting of the votes, seeing them singled out into three piles. Then there was some figuring on paper, and Dick Merriwell was heard to say: “That’s right.”
The chairman rapped, but the meeting was silent and anxious already.
“Gentlemen,” said Dow, “listen to the vote. Whole number cast, 253.”
“Fifteen more than before,” said Smart, to his companions.
“Necessary for choice,” announced Dow, “127. Chester Arlington has 111; George Hardy, 101; Joseph Savage, 41. Therefore – ”
“No vote!” was the shout that went up.
Arlington had taken the lead on this ballot, but had not received a majority over both his opponents. Hardy had lost one vote, Savage had gained two, and Chester Arlington fourteen.
“Arlington!” was the cry.
“If Savage would withdraw in favor of Hardy,” said Ned Stanton to his companions on the committee, “it would settle things in short order and knock Arlington out.”
Dick Merriwell said nothing, but he had seen a fellow he knew as an Arlington worker approach Joe Savage and say something to him. He had seen Savage shake his head, and then the fellow said something more, upon which Savage looked startled and seemed to remonstrate. At this, the fellow snapped his fingers and walked away.
“Something doing there!” thought Dick.
He was right.
“Gentlemen,” said Elmer Dow, “the polls are again declared open. Bring in your votes.”
Dick was still watching Savage. He saw Joe falter and look round; then, of a sudden, the fellow stepped up on a bench and cried:
“Mr. Chairman and gentlemen of the meeting, as there seems to be a deadlock, and as it is plain I have very little chance of being elected, I rise to withdraw from the field. At the same time, I wish to suggest that those who have cast their votes for me now throw them for Chester Arlington, as I believe it fair and right for the entering class to have a representative on the committee.”
Then he stepped down, but he had exploded a bombshell, and there was consternation in the meeting.
Brad Buckhart had shot to his feet as he heard Savage speak Arlington’s name, and now he dropped back, gasping:
“I’ll – be – shot!”
“Arlington, Arlington!” was the mad cry that went up.
Brad turned to Dick.
“Partner, am I dreaming?” he asked. “Did I hear straight? Did that onery galoot say Arlington?”
“That’s what he said,” nodded Dick.
“And he pretends to be your friend! Well, he ought to be lynched like a horse-thief!”
Dick had been astonished, but he was master of himself, and he did not show his surprise.
“It was worked somehow,” he said. “I don’t believe Savage really wanted to withdraw in favor of Arlington, but he was driven into it.”
“Driven? Driven how?”
“I can’t say.”
“He’s just an onery, two-faced – ”
Dick’s hand fell on Brad’s arm.
“Careful!” he said. “Don’t raise your voice, old man.”
“Give me a gun,” growled the Texan, “and I’ll sure go out yon and shoot him up some!”
The balloting had begun, and Arlington’s friends were working harder than ever.
“We’ve got them now!” they sang joyously.
The voting was rushed along at a lively rate, and there was no delay to drag in any one. In a short time the chairman declared the balloting over, and then the counting of the votes began. As the members of the committee separated the votes into two piles it soon became apparent that the vote was nearly a tie.
Not all of those who had voted for Savage had swung to Arlington on the recommendation of Savage. Finally the votes were sorted, and a recount was made.
Brad Buckhart was pale.
“He’s got it, pard!” he whispered. “Got it by one vote! No, by thunder! He shall not have it!”
Then Dick saw Brad, in running over Arlington’s votes, cleverly slip two of them into his palm.
Ned Stanton, however, did not detect the trick.
“What do you make it, Stanton?” asked Dick.
“One hundred and twenty-three for Arlington.”
“That’s right,” said Buckhart huskily. “And Hardy has one hundred and twenty-four.”
“Then Hardy wins!” said Stanton, with satisfaction.
“Wait,” said Dick. “Let’s be sure of this. Let’s count them over again.”
“What for?” asked Brad.
“Because I want to make sure.”
Dick carried his point.
“Brad,” he whispered in Buckhart’s ear, without looking toward his roommate, “I want you to put back those two votes. Put them back, or I shall have to expose you!”
The Texan turned like chalk. His hands shook a little, and the counting went on.
“By George, we were wrong!” said Stanton, as they finished. “Arlington has one hundred and twenty-five! He wins by one vote.”
“Correct,” said Merriwell, and he gave the figures to the chairman, whose announcement of the result was followed by a mighty cheer for the victor.
CHAPTER XIII – THE PROMPTINGS OF CONSCIENCE
Brad Buckhart disappeared at once. When Dick reached his room he found Brad there, sitting like a wooden image and staring at the wall.
“Well, old man,” said Dick pleasantly, “that was what I call a hot meeting.”
The Texan did not stir. From his appearance, it did not seem that he was aware Dick had entered the room.
“In a trance, Brad?” asked Dick.
Still Buckhart remained motionless, staring at the wall, a hard look on his face.
“What’s the matter?” asked Dick, stopping in front of his roommate. “What ails you, old man?”
Brad looked at Dick, and there was a mingling of reproach, shame, and anger in that look.
“Why didn’t you let me alone?” he demanded. “That dirty dog won!”
“You mean – ”
“Arlington – you know whom I mean! He’s on the committee now, and he will show you in short order that he has power there. Just you wait and see what he does!”
“But he was fairly elected, Brad.”
“Was he? I’m not so sure of that.”
The Texan’s voice was harsh and his manner toward Dick new and strained. He felt deeply the shame of his position. More for Dick’s sake than his own, he had sought to keep Chester Arlington from getting on the committee. Dick had detected him in the act of filching the two ballots that gave Chester the position, and had compelled him to put them back while the votes were being counted again. No one else knew of this, but Buckhart felt that he had lowered himself in the eyes of his friend and roommate.
“I’m not so sure his election was fair,” he repeated.
“What do you mean? Why wasn’t it?”
“What made Savage pull out just when he did? What made him try to throw his votes to Arlington? There was something behind it, and you know it.”
Although Brad had not noted the incident observed by Dick, when Savage was approached by a fellow who seemed to make a demand on him, against which he rebelled at first, but to which he finally succumbed, still the Texan had sense enough to reason it out that there had been an unusual cause back of the action of Savage in stepping out in favor of Arlington at that critical juncture.
“What do you think there was behind it?” asked Dick, curious to learn Buckhart’s opinion on the matter.
“Crookedness, crookedness!” exclaimed the Westerner, rising to his feet and beginning to tramp up and down the room. “I know it! I’m sure of it! I was sure of it all the time,” he went on, eager to say something to make his own act seem less heinous. “That is why I was determined that Arlington should not win if I could help it. I could have prevented it.”
“Dishonestly! Look here, Brad, I don’t think you realized just what you were doing.”
Dick attempted to place a hand on Buckhart’s shoulder, but it was brushed aside, and the Texan continued his excited striding up and down the room.
“Yes, I did!” he declared grimly. “I knew I was cheating – I knew it! I meant to cheat! I meant to beat Chet Arlington at his own game!”
“Which would have placed you on the same level with him.”
“No! I would have beaten him! Look here, Dick, when you go against a slugging football-team, when the other side plays rough-house, how do you meet them?”
“I try to call the attention of the umpire.”
“What if the umpire will not punish them?”
“Well, as a last resort, I give the boys instructions to make the game hot in the same fashion as the other fellows.”
“As a last resort! That’s it! Do you think I’m a fellow to choose to do a dishonest thing?”
“I know you would not choose it because your inclination was that way.”
“But, in a case like this, I would choose it as a last resort. It was the last resort! It was the only way to keep Arlington from winning.”
“Then, Brad, if a man robs your chicken-coops persistently, you know he robs it, yet you cannot get proof to punish him by the aid of the law, you think it just that you should turn about and rob his chicken-coops, thus making yourself a hen-thief, just to get square with him?”
Buckhart was staggered for a moment, but he recovered quickly.
“Oh, that doesn’t apply! That is a different degree of retaliation.”
“Then your application does not fit a football-game. Brad, you know it is not right to meet dishonesty with dishonesty. That is not the way to combat it.”
“It’s about the only way to combat it successfully.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“You’ll find it is.”
“I don’t believe any fellow can afford it, Brad.”
“Afford it?”
“Yes.”
“Why, what – ”
“Every little dishonest thing a chap does weakens his moral nature. It is not often a burglar becomes a burglar at a single step. He descends to that level by degrees. He does some little crooked act in the first place; then he does something worse, and step by step he goes down the hill, until at last he is a thorough criminal.”
“Great goodness!” exploded Brad. “You didn’t fancy I was taking my first step in crime, did you?”
“No; but I knew it was not right, even to defeat an enemy. I knew you would regret it afterward.”
“Not by a blamed sight! You were plumb wrong there, Dick!”
Dick shook his head.
“I was right,” he said, with positive assurance. “I sought to save you from the secret shame you must have felt in future when you thought of it.”
“Secret shame. How do you know I – ”
“I’ll tell you how I know. Any fellow is liable to slip once. I did, Brad.”
“You?” gasped the Texan incredulously. “What are you giving me?”
“Straight goods, old man. Once on a time I did a mean and dishonest thing.”
“I can’t believe it!”
“It is true. I did it impulsively, and no one but myself ever knew about it. It was not anything of great importance, but, when my blood had cooled and I came to realize just what I had done, I felt like a criminal. I suffered such intense shame and anguish as I have never known at any other time. I resolved to make reparation, but circumstances placed it beyond my power to do so, and to this day I have the unpleasant memory of wronging a fellow being. It taught me my lesson, Brad. It does not pay for a fellow to stoop to anything of the sort, no matter how petty.”
This confession from Dick’s lips made Brad feel better. Why, here was Dick, who had detected him on the point of filching the votes – Dick had been tempted and had fallen. Dick was not holding himself coldly above Brad as his moral superior; instead, he freely acknowledged that he had stumbled.
Buckhart’s feelings about the affair began to undergo a change. A little while before he had been thinking of his roommate as looking down on him in pity from a moral height far above him; but now Dick had made it plain that he had no thought or desire to exalt himself in the least.
“You may be right,” said Brad.
“I know I am,” came positively from Dick’s lips. “You will see it in the same light when you are cooler. Besides, there was another reason why I could not afford to let you get rid of those votes.”
“What other reason?”
“I saw you – I knew what you had done.”
“Well?”
“With that knowledge, had I permitted you to work the scheme, I should have been just as guilty as you. It was to save myself from regret and shame, as well as you, that I told you you must put the votes back.”
This confession drew Brad still closer to his friend. In all these things Dick was perfectly honest with his companion, and the Texan trusted and relied in him.
“I never thought of it that way,” he said.
“But you see I am right,” said Dick. “I was compelled to ask you to put the votes back in order to save my own feelings.”
“Then, if you had not seen me – ”
Dick interrupted with a laugh.
“Why, I should have known nothing about it. But,” he added soberly, “I am glad I saw you, even though Arlington won.”
“Well,” acknowledged the Texan, brought round at last, “I believe I am glad of it, too; but it was a howling shame to have that greaser get on the committee! It was, I know!”
