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.