“We are,” I replied, earnestly. “The liberality of the president of the road is well known to all of you, and I have the pleasure of informing you that he has decided to provide the supper at his own expense. It is my pleasant privilege, therefore, to invite you, in behalf of President Toppleton, to a supper at this hotel, after the adjournment. I wish the stockholders especially to understand that this invitation is extended by the president in his private capacity.” Some applause followed my speech; but it was by no means as general and hearty as I desired. It was an electioneering movement, and with this invitation before them, I did not see how the stockholders could well avoid reëlecting Tommy. I saw the leaders of the opposition looking significantly at each other, as though they regarded my movement as a diversion against their scheme. A committee to collect, count, and declare the vote was appointed by the chair, and indorsed by the meeting; and I had the honor to be one of the three. During the voting, intense excitement prevailed in the hall. It was a general jabber. As far as my duties would permit, I had been at work for Tommy. I had used all my powers of persuasion to induce certain large stockholders to vote for him; but, as fast as I made an impression, it seemed to be removed by the opposition, and when the meeting assembled I was not sure that I had converted a single share, for each of which a vote was given. But Tommy was reasonably confident of an election. He threw five hundred votes for himself to begin with, as the representative of so many shares; and one more than the same number, in addition, would elect him. If he could not get so many votes, he was more unpopular than any of his friends suspected. “Have all the stockholders voted?” shouted Tommy. “If so, I declare the poll closed!” The committee retired to sort and count the ballots, taking with us the stock book, in order to detect any illegal voting. I do not think any similar occasion among full-grown men excited more interest and anxiety than this election. Tommy Toppleton was really on trial for insolence and tyranny, and the result was to be his acquittal or conviction. We counted the votes; and Faxon, who was the chairman, and a friend of the president, led the way to the hall, with the result written on a piece of paper in his hand. “Order, gentlemen!” called Tommy; and his unsteady voice indicated the anxiety with which he waited the issue. “You will listen to the report of the committee.” “Whole number of votes, two thousand,” read Faxon, while breathless silence pervaded the hall. “Necessary to a choice, one thousand and one. Thomas Toppleton has eight hundred and eighty-two;” and the chairman read the rest of the names on the same ticket, who had nearly all the vote. “Edward Skotchley has twelve hundred and eighteen.”