CHAPTER V
AND SHOWS HIS METTLE
The freshman election took place in one of the lecture rooms of GraceHall. There was a full attendance of the entering class, while theabsence of sophomores was considered by those who had heard of formerfreshman elections at Erskine as something unnatural and ofevil portent.
Paul, robbed of the support of Tom Cowan's presence, was noticeably illat ease, and for the first time appeared to be in doubt as to hiselection. Fanwell Livingston was put in nomination by one of his St.Mathias friends in a speech that secured wide applause, and thenomination was duly seconded by a red-headed and very eloquent youthwho, so Neil learned, was King, the captain of the St. Mathias baseballteam of the preceding spring.
"Are there any more nominations?" asked the chairman, a member of thejunior class.
South, a Hillton boy, arose and spoke at some length of the courage andability for leadership of one of whom they had all heard; "of one whoon the white-grilled field of battle had successfully led the hosts ofHillton Academy against the St. Eustace hosts." (Two St. Eustacegraduates howled derisively.) South ended in a wild burst of floweryeloquence and placed in nomination "that triumphant football captain,that best of good fellows, Paul Dunlop Gale!"
The applause which followed was flattering, though, had Paul but knownit, it was rather for the speech than the nominee. And the effect wassomewhat marred by several inquiries from different parts of the hall asto who in thunder Gale was. Neil secured recognition ere the applausehad subsided, and seconded the nomination. He avoided rhetoric, and toldhis classmates in few words and simple phrases that Paul Gale possessedpluck, generalship, and executive ability; that he had proved this atHillton, and, given the chance, would prove it again at Erskine.
"Gale is a stranger to many of you fellows," he concluded, "but, whetheryou make him class president or whether you give that honor to another,he won't be a stranger long. A fellow that can pilot a Hillton footballteam to victory against almost overwhelming odds and through thegreatest of difficulties as Gale did last year is not the sort to sitaround in corners and watch the procession go by. No, sir; keep your eyeon him. I'll wager that before the year's out you'll be prouder of himthan of any man in your class. And, meanwhile, if you're looking forthe right man for the presidency, a man that'll lead 1905 to a renownbeside which the other classes will look like so many batteredgolf-balls, why, I've told you where to look."
Neil sat down amid a veritable roar of applause, and Paul, totallyunembarrassed by the praise and acclaim, smiled with satisfaction. "Thatwas all right, chum," he whispered. "I guess we've got them on therun, eh?"
But Neil shook his head doubtfully. Cries of "Vote! Vote!" arose, and ina moment or two the balloting began. While this was proceedingannouncement was made that the annual Freshman Class Dinner would beheld on the evening of the following Monday, October 7th. When thecheers occasioned by this information had subsided the chairman arose.
"The result of the balloting, gentlemen," he announced, "is as follows:Livingston, 97; Gale, 45. Mr. Livingston is elected by a majorityof 52."
Shouts of "Livingston! Livingston! Speech! Speech!" filled the air, andwere not stilled until some one arose and announced that thepresident-elect was not in the hall. Paul, after a glance ofbewilderment at Neil, had sat silent in his chair with something betweena sneer and a scowl on his face. Now he jumped up.
"Come on; let's get out of here," he muttered. "They act like a lot ofidiots." Neil followed, and they found themselves in a pushing throng atthe door. The chairman was vainly clamoring for some one to put a motionto adjourn, but none heeded him. The crowd pushed and shoved, but madeno progress.
"Open that door," cried Paul.
"Try it yourself," answered a voice up front. "It's locked!"
A murmur arose that quickly gave place to cries of wrath andindignation. "The sophs did it!" "Where are they?" "Break the doordown!" Those at the rear heaved and pushed.
"Stop shoving, back there!" yelled those in front. "You're squashing usflat."
"Everybody away from the door!" shouted Neil. "Let's see if we can't getit open." The fellows finally fell back to some extent, and Neil, Paul,and some of the others examined the lock. The key was still there, but,unfortunately, on the outside. Breaking the door down was utterly out ofthe question, since it was of solid oak and several inches thick. Theself-appointed committee shook its several heads.
"We'll have to yell for the janitor," said Neil. "Where does he hangout?"
But none knew. Neil went to one of the three windows and raised it.Instantly a chorus of derision floated up from below. Gathered almostunder the windows was a throng of sophomores, their upturned faces justvisible in the darkness.
"O Fresh! O Fresh!" "Want to come down?" "Why don't you jump?" Thesegibes were followed by cheers for "'04" and loud groans. Neil turned andfaced his angry classmates.
"Look here, fellows," he said, "we don't want to have to yell for thejanitor with those sophs there; that's too babyish. The key's in theoutside of the lock. I think I can get down all right by the ivy, andI'll unlock the door if those sophs will let me. If two or three of youwill follow I guess we can do it all right."
"Bully for you!" "Plucky boy!" cried the audience. But for a moment nonecame forward to share the risk. Then Paul pushed his way to the window.
"Here, I'll go with you, chum," he said, with a suggestion of swagger."We can manage those dubs down there alone. The rest of you can sit downand tell stories; we'll let you out in a minute," he added scathingly.
"That's Gale," whispered some one. "Fresh kid!", added another angrily.But the gibe had the desired effect. Four other freshmen signified theirwillingness to die for their class, and Neil climbed on to the broadwindow-sill. His reappearance was the signal for another outburst fromthe watching sophomores.
"Don't jump, sonny; you may hurt yourself." "He's going to fly, fellows!Good little Freshie's got wings!" "Say, we'll let you out in themorning! Good-night!"
But when Neil, divesting himself of coat and shoes, swung out and laidhold of the largest of the big ivy branches that clung there to thewall, the jeers died away. The hall where the meeting had been held wason the third floor, and when Neil stepped from the window-sill he hungfully twenty-five feet from the ground. The ivy branch, ages old, wasalmost as large as his wrist, and quite strong enough to bear his weightjust as long as it did not tear from its fastenings. Whether it wouldhold in place remained to be seen. Neil judged that if he could lowerhimself fifteen feet by its aid he could easily drop the rest of thedistance without injury. The window above was black with watchers as hebegan his journey, and many voices cheered him on. Paul, his feethanging over the black void, sat on the narrow ledge and waitedhis turn.
"Go fast, chum," he counseled, "but don't lose your grip. I'll waituntil you're down."
"All right," answered Neil. Then, with a great rustling of thethick-growing leaves, he lowered himself by arm's lengths. The vineswayed and gave at every strain, but held. From below came the sound ofclapping. Hand under hand he went. The oblong of faint light abovereceded fast. His stockinged feet gripped the vine tightly. In the groupof sophomores the clapping grew into cheers.
"Good work, Freshie!" "You're all right!"
Then, with the ground almost at his feet, Neil let go and droppedlightly into a bed of shrubbery. The fellows above applauded wildly.With a glance at the near-by group of sophomores, Neil ran. Several ofthe enemy started to intercept him, but were called back.
"Let him go! He's all right! We've had our fun!" And Neil sprang up thesteps and into the building without molestation. Meanwhile Paul wasmaking his descent and receiving his meed of applause from friend andfoe. And as he dropped to earth there came a sound of cheering from thebuilding, and the freshmen, released by the unlocking of the door,emerged on to the steps and path.
"Five this way!" was the cry. "Rush the sophs!"
But wiser counsels prevailed and, each cheering loudly, therepresentatives
of the rival classes took themselves off.
Neil and Paul were the last to leave the building, since they had beenobliged to return to the room for their shoes and coats. Paul hadforgotten some of his disappointment during the later proceedings, andappeared very well satisfied with himself.
"We showed them what Hillton chaps can do, chum," he said. "And I'll betthey'll regret electing that fellow Livingston before I'm through withthem! Much I care about their old presidency! They're a pack of sillylittle kids, any way. Let's go to bed."
Behind the Line: A Story of College Life and Football Page 5