At the word, Piper, gathering himself up like a ram for a butting match, made a lunge head foremost into the recoiling ranks of the tories, and, borne irresistibly forward by the force of the rushing phalanx behind, overthrew, prostrated, and shoved aside, all before him, till the whole column gained the interior, and came to a halt before the ballot-box. “I protest against that fellow's voting!” exclaimed Peters, approaching the stand as Bart, from his lofty seat on Dunning's shoulders, was about to put in his vote, which was a simple _yea_ written on a slip of paper, and handed up to him by some one stationed near the box to furnish the unsupplied. “I protest against such a glaring outrage! He is under age, and was very properly driven from the house.” “Prove it! prove it!” shouted several of Bart's friends. “You can't do it,” cried another, “and if you could, two of your party, who are under age, have voted already; 'tis a fact; deny it if you can!” “In with it, Bart!” said Dunning, bending down to give the other a chance. “Yes, in with it; for he shall vote!” responded the rest. “He shall not vote!” vociferated Peters; “and if he attempts to do it; I'll blow his brains out!” he added, pulling out and levelling a pistol. Quick as thought, Bart threw open his over-coat, and, drawing from beneath it the light short gun there concealed, cocked, and brought it to his shoulder; while the threatening weapon of his foe was seen flying to a distant part of the room, from a sudden blow of Piper's cudgel, and its disarmed and nonplused owner slinking away out of the range of the suspicious-looking barrel still kept aimed at his head. Amidst the loud cries of order, and the heated vociferations of both parties, now raised to condemn or defend the transaction, through the house, Bart, Dunning, and others of their company, who had not voted, now hastily deposited their votes, and retired unmolested.