General Chick did not wait long at the armory after his verbal encounter with Sergeant Barriscale. He knew that he could accomplish nothing by remaining there, and he had a feeling that if he could only see McCormack and talk the situation over with him some plan might be evolved by which threatened defeat would be averted.

He shuffled across the armory floor and out through the big front door under the tower into the street.

He wondered whether Ben Barriscale really knew what he was talking about when he claimed to have a majority of seven votes, or whether his declaration was simply a bluff made for the effect it might have on his listeners. But he had seemed so confident; his campaign had been so thorough and systematic, that now, at the close of it, he was more than likely to be correct in his estimate of the result. It was a disheartening conclusion to reach, but it was a conclusion that could not well be avoided. At any rate there was but one thing to do now, and that was to see Sergeant McCormack, tell him of his rival’s boast, and consider what, if anything, could be done.

He knew where McCormack lived, and he knew what route to take to get there. It was already after nine o’clock, and there was no time to lose. It was a splendid, moonlight August night and there were many people in the streets. On the bridge that crossed the river a dozen loiterers stood, singly and in pairs, watching the shimmer of moonlight on the passing waters. One of them spoke to Chick as he hurried by, but the boy did not stop to respond; he gave a quick word of greeting and moved rapidly on. With every step that he took he grew more and more impressed with the importance of his errand, and with the necessity of haste in delivering it. He felt that the sooner he could reach McCormack the greater would be the possibility of averting the threatened disaster.

In front of the Fairweather Club a man stood in evening clothes, anxiously scanning the faces of those who passed by. When he saw Chick coming a look of relief spread over his countenance.

“Chick!” he called, “you’re just the man I’m looking for. I want you to take a letter to Mayor Toplady for me. It’s got to be delivered before ten o’clock.”

Chick paused long enough to reply.

“Can’t do it,” he said. “Ain’t got time.”

“There’s a dollar in it for you. You can take the next car that comes along. You’ll get there in twenty minutes.”

Chick opened his eyes wide. There were not many days in the year in which he earned a whole dollar. But to-night the offer did not tempt him.

“I’d like to ’commodate you,” he said; “but it’s jest as I told you; I ain’t got time. I’m in too much of a hurry.”

“I’ll give you two dollars, Chick. It isn’t every man that comes along that I can trust. And this is important.”

But the boy was still obdurate.

“I tell you I can’t do it!” he exclaimed. “If they was fifty dollars in it for me I couldn’t do it. I’ve got an important errant myself.”

And, for the purpose of shutting off further argument and entreaty, he hurried on.

At the next corner he could take a street-car that would carry him to within three blocks of McCormack’s home. He thrust his hand into his pocket for the necessary nickel and found, to his dismay, that he was penniless. So there was nothing for him to do but to walk the mile up the hill, unless he could quickly find some one who would lend him the required car fare. At that moment, as good luck would have it, he discovered Corporal Manning, of Company E, just entering Wolf’s drug store. He knew that Manning would lend him the money, for Manning was a friend of his and had already done him more than one favor. Moreover, he believed that the corporal was friendly to McCormack and would favor his candidacy.

As Chick entered the drug store Manning was just seating himself on one of the revolving stools at the soda-fountain counter. He saw the boy and called to him.

“Just in time, Chick!” he exclaimed. “Come and have a soda on me.”

Now the love of soda-water was Chick’s besetting sin. He himself acknowledged that far too many of his hard-earned nickels went to appease his desire for his favorite drink. But to-night, even though a sudden thirst overwhelmed him, he put the temptation resolutely aside.

“No,” he said, “I’m jest as much obleeged to you, but I ain’t got time. I’ve got use for the nickel, though,” he added, shuffling up to the counter, “if you’d lend me one till to-morrow.”

“Sure!” replied Manning, cheerfully. “Make it a dime.” He produced the coin and handed it to the boy. “But what’s the great hurry?”

Chick looked cautiously over the near-by patrons of the place before answering. No one was within hearing. Perhaps he might get a valuable suggestion.

“Well,” he whispered, “I’m goin’ up to see Sergeant ’Cormack. Somethin’s got to be done right off.”

“Why? What’s the matter?”

“I jest heard Sergeant Barry say he’s goin’ to beat my candidate by seven votes. He told the bunch up to the armory. I can’t stan’ that. We’ve got to do somethin’ quick.”

Manning set his glass back deliberately on the counter.

“I don’t believe it!” he said. “He’s just throwing a bluff. Charlie Moore and I went over the whole situation not more than half an hour ago; and the way we figure it Hal will come under the wire with three votes to spare.”

“You countin’ on Stone an’ Hooper?”

“Sure, we’re counting on them.”

“That’s where you’re way off. They’re for Barry.”

“It can’t be. They’re as good as promised for Hal.”

“Well, I heard Stone say, myself, that him and Hooper was for Barry because they had to be.”

Corporal Manning sat for a moment in grim silence. “Then I don’t know,” he said finally, “who you can depend on. Maybe Barriscale will get away with it after all. He’s a crack-a-jack at wire-pulling. Did you say there’s a bunch of the boys up at the armory?”

“Yes; dozens of ’em.”

“I guess I’ll go up there myself and see how the land lies.”

“I wisht you would. An’ I’ll go on up to ’Cormack’s an’ see what can be done.”

Chick shuffled hastily out, but Manning rose from his seat, went to the door, and called after him.

“You tell Hal,” he said, when the boy came back to the step, “that he can depend absolutely on Charlie Moore and me. I don’t know whether he’s counting on us. I haven’t promised him anything; but he ought to know now on whom he can rely.”

“That’s good!” replied Chick; “I’ll tell him.” And he turned again and hurried away.

Manning stood for a minute in the store door gazing at the crowds in the street, and then, without going back to finish his soda, he started toward the armory.

Twenty minutes later Chick rang the door-bell at the McCormack house. Hal, himself, came to the door, and, when he saw who was there, he drew the boy into the hall, and then into the library.

“I know it’s perty late for me to be comin’,” began Chick apologetically; “but I got somethin’ to tell you, an’ it wouldn’t keep over night.”

“About the election, I suppose?” inquired Hal.

“Yes. Sergeant Barry says he’s goin’ to win out to-morrow with seven votes to spare. He told that to the bunch up to the armory to-night.”

“He must be mistaken, Chick. I’ve figured it out, and according to my figures I’ll have a majority of three.”

“You countin’ on Stone an’ Hooper?”

“Yes; they’re friends of mine.”

“Well, they’re no good. They’re for Barry. I heard Fred Stone say so himself.”

“If that’s so I’ll get left. But I’ve done everything that it’s possible for any decent fellow to do to get elected, and I’ll have no regrets on that score.”

It was at this juncture that Miss Sarah Halpert entered into the conversation. She had been sitting with other members of the family in an adjoining room, the connecting door of which was wide open, and evidently she had heard Hal’s remark, for now she came bustling into the library and stood facing the two boys.

“That’s not so, Hal McCormack!” she declared, “and you know it. You’ve done precious little to get elected. Why, instead of sitting here at home to-night calmly reading Karl Marx’s silly book on ‘Kapital,’ you ought to be out with your coat off and your sleeves rolled up, hustling for votes, as I’ll warrant you Ben Barriscale is.”

Hal smiled. He seldom took his Aunt Sarah’s scolding seriously. But to-night she seemed to be more in earnest than usual.

“Why,” she went on, “Chick is worth a dozen of you as a vote-getter. Here he’s been running his legs off for you for days while you’ve been dawdling around the house. What is the outlook anyway, Chick?”

“Perty poor, Mrs. Halpert,” was the reply.

Chick always called her “Mrs.” She said she didn’t know why on earth he did so unless it was because he felt that even if she wasn’t married she ought to be, so that she would have some one to be continually bossing.

“Well, where’s your list, Hal?” she asked. “Let’s look it over again. We’ll separate the sheep from the goats and put bells on them. Then we’ll know where they are.”

She crossed over and seated herself in a chair by the table, and beckoned to the boys to join her there. They did so. And when Hal produced his list, already checked and rechecked, of the names of the enlisted men in his company, she went over it with them, name by name, and from the reports which they gave, and from her own knowledge and opinions, she drew her conclusions and made her division.

“’Fore I forget it,” said Chick, “Co’poral Manning sent word to tell you that him an’ Charlie Moore is for you. He thought you might not be sure of ’em.”

“I wasn’t sure of them,” replied Hal. “It was rather a delicate matter to approach them, and I didn’t do it.”

“Of course you didn’t!” sputtered Miss Halpert. “And there are several dozen more whom your extraordinary delicacy and modesty have prevented you from interviewing. Oh, you’ve made a fine campaign—for self-effacement!” She turned abruptly to Chick. “Chick,” she asked, “who are the doubtful ones in this whole list? Just give me their names and I’ll take them down.”

“What for, Aunt Sarah?” Hal scented trouble.

“I’m going to see every mother’s son of ’em to-morrow morning, and find out what’s what.”

“But, Aunt Sarah, you promised me——”

She turned on him sharply.

“My promise was on condition that you should do something for yourself. And as near as I can make out you haven’t done a blessed thing. Chick, give me those names.”

Hal groaned in dismay. He knew, from long experience, the utter uselessness of making further protest.

“Well,” replied Chick, “there’s Maury an’ Steinman an’ Jarvis an’ O’Donnell, an’—an’——”

“How about Tom Hooper?” inquired Miss Halpert.

“Him an’ Jim Stone’s ag’inst us,” answered Chick.

“What for?”

“No reason ’t I know of, ’cept they’re fixed.”

“Well, they’re not fixed until after I’ve seen them.”

“But,” protested Hal, “you don’t know those fellows, Aunt Sarah.”

“Then,” she replied quickly, “I’ll make their acquaintance. Besides, I know their mothers, and I guess their mothers will have the last say. I’ll try it on anyway.”

“Oh, Aunt Sarah! this is not a contest between the mothers of the boys.”

“All right! Make it a contest between their aunts if you like. But the time has come when I’m going to interfere. Chick, give me the rest of those names.”

When her request had been complied with, Miss Halpert went over again with the two boys the entire list and checked up those who were surely for and those who were surely against the second sergeant, and divided the doubtful ones according to the probabilities; and Hal was still one vote short. Then Chick had an idea.

“Where you got Fred Lewis?” he asked.

“He’s against me,” replied Hal. “He works at the Barriscale, and he’s one of Ben’s right-hand men.”

Chick sat for a moment in contemplative silence.

“I shouldn’t wonder ’at I’ve got a pull with him,” he said finally.

“You’ll have to have a pretty big pull to get him away from Ben,” replied Hal incredulously. “What do you mean pull, anyway?”

“Oh, I can’t tell you that. It’s somethin’ that him an’ me knows about. It’s a secret. I’m goin’ to see him anyway.”

He rose from his chair, cap in hand, and faced toward the door.

“Why, Chick!” exclaimed Hal, “you can’t see him to-night. It’s after half-past ten. He’ll be in bed.”

“Let the boy alone!” broke in Miss Halpert, sharply. “He knows what he’s about, and you don’t. It’s never too late to get a vote.”

So Chick went out into the night and bent his steps toward the home of Alfred Lewis, admirer of a girl by the name of Rachael. He, himself, had no clear idea of what he was going to do or how he was going to do it. He simply felt that he must find his man if possible, and settle the question of his vote. Doubtless it was too late in the evening to see him, as Sergeant McCormack had said; but at least it would do no harm to try. His way lay across the city, there was no street-car line reaching in that direction, and it was necessary for him to walk.

When he had accomplished half the distance he found himself out of breath, and sat down for a little while on the carriage block in front of a private residence to rest. When he started on again he walked more slowly. The clock in the tower of the City Hall, a mile away, tolled out the hour of eleven. He heard it and walked faster. And when he finally reached the Lewis home he found the house dark, and no one in the neighborhood. He leaned against the gate where he had left young Lewis the night he had given him the letter, and wondered what he should do. Plainly there was but one thing for him to do, and that was to go home. It would be absurd and unpardonable to rouse the members of the Lewis household for the purpose of his errand. He faced back toward the way by which he had come, but before he had moved from his place he heard the echo of footsteps on the pavement, and discovered a dim form approaching him. It was a man, and, as he drew near, Chick heard him whistle softly to himself. He decided to wait till the man should go by. But the man didn’t go by. He stopped at the gate and looked inquiringly at the figure standing there.

“Chick!”

“Corp’al Lewis!”

The recognition was mutual and simultaneous.

“Chick, are you waiting to see me?”

“Yes, they’s somethin’ I kind o’ want to ast you.”

“All right! Go ahead and ask it. You’ll never find me in a more genial frame of mind.”

“Well, do you ’member ’bout that letter I found, to a girl name o’ Rachael?”

“Do I remember about it! Chick, the finding of that letter has made me the happiest man on earth.”

“That so?” Chick seemed to be a little incredulous at first, but when he looked into the beaming face of the young man, as the light from the incandescent lamp at the corner fell on it, he no longer doubted his words.

“Yes, let me tell you.” Young Lewis came closer and lowered his voice, although the street was quiet as an African desert, and every house in the block was closed and locked for the night. “You see, I took that letter with me when I went there this evening, and I told her about how you had found it and given it back to me; and, naturally, she wanted to see it; so, after a while, I let her read it. And that sort o’ broke the ice, and—well, Chick, that girl by the name of Rachael has promised to be my wife.”

He straightened up, threw back his head and shoulders, and assumed a wholly monarchical air.

“That’s fine an’ dandy,” said Chick, not knowing what else to say.

“Yes; and let me tell you what she said, Chick. She said that if any one else had found the letter, and had shown it, and it had become public property, as it were, and people had identified me as the writer and her as the proposed recipient, she wouldn’t have married me in a thousand years; just to punish me in the first place for my crass negligence, and in the second place to spite the gossips.”

Chick laughed a little. “She’s got some spunk, ain’t she?” he said.

“You bet she has. So you see where you come in, Chick. She’s under everlasting obligations to you, and so am I.”

The boy shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and reached out a caressing hand to the gate-post.

“You ’member,” he asked, “what you promised me the night I give you back the letter?”

“Sure I do. I promised you I’d do you any favor in my power, any time.”

“Well, you can do it now.”

“How?”

“Vote for Sergeant ’Cormack to-morrow.”

Fred Lewis looked questioningly into the eyes of his visitor and for a moment he did not speak. Finally he said:

“Chick, that’s a poser. You know I work in the Barriscale, don’t you?”

“I know it.”

“And I’m looking for promotion there.”

“I s’pose so.”

“And Ben is counting on my vote.”

“Most likely.”

“Then, what can you expect?”

Chick did not answer the question, but he asked another.

“Ain’t promised him nothin’, have you?”

“No, he hasn’t asked me. He’s taken it all for granted.”

“Well, nobody’ll know how anybody votes.”

“That’s true.”

“And you ain’t got nothin’ ag’inst Sergeant ’Cormack?”

“No; he’s a fine fellow, and he’ll make a splendid officer.”

“Then vote for him. I ask you.”

Again young Lewis was silent. Evidently he was weighing the matter in his mind.

“Chick,” he said at last, “can you keep a secret?”

“I didn’t say nothin’ ’bout the letter, did I?”

“No, that’s right. Well, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I won’t promise you a single thing. Mind you, not a single thing. But, Chick, Halpert McCormack is going to get one vote to-morrow that he’s not expecting. Do you get me?”

“I got you.”

“All right! Here’s my hand on it. And, Chick, it’s our secret.”

“Criss-cross my heart,” replied Chick.

There was a long hand-clasp, a cheery good-night, and the boy turned his face toward home. As he went down the hill, and struck into the deserted Main Street, the clock in the City Hall tower tolled the hour of twelve.