The trio made a hasty count of the forces to be relied on. “How about Poole?” asked Whitely. “Oh, he’s for Laughlin, sure,” answered Stone. “Then Eddy’s gone, too. And Benson?” “We might get him,” said Stone, “if he’s worked right.” “And that new fellow, Lindsay,” continued Whitely, turning to Marchmont. “You’ve got him well in hand, haven’t you?” “I guess so,” returned Marchmont, smiling. “He’s rather green and innocent, and has some kindergarten notions which he’ll have to get rid of, but he’ll come round in time. I think I can deliver the goods there all right.” So they ran over the catalogue of their intimates. It appeared that about a dozen could be counted on at the outset. “Let’s pledge these and gradually build up a party,” said Whitely, when the list of sure men was at last complete. “I believe we can get such a start before the election that they can’t get near us.” “It would be great to give that fellow a good, hard fall,” declared Marchmont, with enthusiasm. “He certainly needs it.” In the evening Wolcott dropped in, as happened frequently nowadays, for a half hour with Marchmont. “Kind of all-round man, Laughlin is, isn’t he?” commented Marchmont, as Lindsay sprawled on the couch before the open fire and recounted some of his experiences of the day. “Football captain, scholar, musician, pillar of the church, butler, furnace tender, dish-washer—it isn’t every fellow from the woods who has a record like that. I don’t think I should want him to handle my china.” “What I don’t understand is why the fellows generally seem to have such a high opinion of him,” said Lindsay. “It’s the fashion to be democratic here,” answered Marchmont, wisely. “And then he’s a football player, and that makes up for almost everything. He oughtn’t to have been captain; there’s where the mistake was made. Of course you’ve got to encourage such fellows, and it’s very creditable in them to try to make something of themselves and all that; but when you come to the important offices, they ought to go to fellows of a better class, who could represent the school decently.” “Perhaps he was the only candidate.” “No, there was Butler, who played guard on the other side. He’s an awfully nice fellow, though perhaps not so good a player as that big bruiser. The choice lay between the two, and Laughlin got it.” “He certainly thinks he’s all right,” remarked Lindsay, a little spitefully. “He’s given me advice, on several occasions, about what I ought to do and not to do here in school.” “And whom you ought to know, and where you ought to go, and how you ought to amuse yourself, and so on. He’s probably advised you against smoking, and told you always to tell the truth when you report.” “That’s about it,” confessed Lindsay. “That reminds me: have I ever shown you my postern gate?” Lindsay stared blankly. “Postern gate!” “Yes, my secret entrance. Come here.”