“Wolcott gets eleven red and three black,” announced Haviland; “one better than last time.” Another ballot on Leonard’s name brought it no nearer election than before. Haydock was quietly exultant. The election was slowly coming to the point to which he had all along looked forward to bringing it. The fellows who had promised to vote for Wolcott--indifferent at first as to whether he got in or not--were beginning now to “root” for him vigorously. Incited solely by a desire to have their own way, they tried to find out who was black-balling him, and made speeches urging his election that Haydock wouldn’t have dared to make. Their eloquence succeeded by the next ballot in reducing the number of his black-balls to two. One of them, of course, was McGaw’s. The other, Haydock felt equally sure, had been put in by Bigelow. Leonard had been Bigelow’s candidate from the first. Bigelow hadn’t disguised his enthusiasm for him since he had nominated him early in the evening; he had, in fact, declared good-naturedly that if the worst came to the worst, he would black-ball his own father in order to get Leonard in. Once when he didn’t happen to have any black cards in his hand, he had asked some one to black-ball Wolcott for him. It was undoubtedly he, thought Haydock, who furnished the second black-ball, and continued to put one in every time a ballot was taken on Wolcott’s name. There was no reason why Bigelow shouldn’t withhold it on the next ballot, Haydock told himself, if he, Haydock, and Ellis showed themselves willing to vote for Leonard. This would elect Bigelow’s candidate unanimously, and let Wolcott in with McGaw’s one black. So just before Leonard’s name was voted on again, Haydock went over to Bigelow and said frankly: “Drop in a red card for Wolcott next time, and as far as Ellis and I are concerned, Leonard will be elected at once. We two have been keeping him out right along.” Bigelow looked surprised, then laughed and nodded as if he understood such things, and in a moment Leonard, amid a murmur of relief from the crowd, was declared elected. Once more the hat was handed from man to man. They were electing Wolcott now, actually electing him, thought Haydock. He noticed that Bigelow voted with the seven of hearts, then he looked in McGaw’s direction to see how the tutor would take the news of Wolcott’s success when Haviland should announce it from the desk. It was very late, and the rickety old room had grown chilly in spite of the two blazing chandeliers. Three or four of the men had put on their coats and hats; the meeting seemed about to end. “Wolcott gets twelve red and two black,” said Haviland, hopelessly. “What!” exclaimed Ellis. Haydock turned incredulously toward the desk; he felt as if some one had played him a sneaking trick. He went over to Bigelow, astonished and rather angry. “You voted for Wolcott, didn’t you?” he asked.