Simms must have been right when he said they were waiting for that name, for such a burst of applause went up as to set the fixtures shaking above the table. Napkins waved and goblets rang. Kendall, staring bewilderedly, told himself that it was a dream; that he had not heard aright! And yet they were all looking at him and waving at him and crying his name! He gazed about, the color rushing into his cheeks, and showed such a terrified countenance that the cheers grew into laughter. Merriwell was rapping for silence again. “Are there any more nominations?” he asked, trying to make himself heard. It seemed that there were not. “Then please come to order, fellows. You have three candidates to vote on——” “Leave me out, Charlie!” called Pete Girard. “I decline the honor!”
“Then two,” began Merriwell again. But Crandall was on his feet.
[313]
“I want to thank the fellows who nominated me,” he announced, “but I withdraw, too, please. And I’d like to make Burtis’s nomination unanimous!”
In the confusion of cheering that followed, Merriwell had hard work making himself heard. Finally, though: “Those in favor of the election of Kendall Burtis will stand up,” he announced. Every chair was pushed back save those of Merriwell, who was already standing, of Coach Payson and Andy Ryan, who had no voice in the proceedings, and of Kendall himself. Marion mounted a chair and called for “Three cheers for Burtis, fellows! Let her go!” The cheers came with a will and were followed by cries of “Speech! Speech!” Kendall, his eyes on the table, and his well hand nervously employed in the manufacture of bread pills, felt himself being lifted to his feet. It was an awful thing to have to say anything, for his voice was nowhere to be found at first; and when it did come it was so shaky and low that for a moment no one could hear it.
Finally, however, his halting words reached them.
“—Awfully afraid you’ve made a—a most horrible mistake,” he was saying, “and I wish you’d change your minds, fellows. Honestly—” and he[314] looked appealingly about—“I don’t think I could do it, fellows!”
A howl of delight and derision went up. Kendall faltered again.
“I—I’d like you to excuse me, please, and——”
“Not on your life! You’re elected, Burtis!”
Kendall turned questioningly, pleadingly, to Simms. Simms, laughing, shook his head. “No use,” he said. “You’re it!”
Kendall gulped, smiled wanly, started to sit down, reconsidered and went on: “Then all I can say is that I’m awfully much obliged and that I—I’ll do the best I know how. But I hope you’ll all help me a lot, because—because I don’t know much about my job!”
Merriwell, looking worried, went down the table and for a minute conversed in whispers with Coach Payson. The coach frowned and, nodding, finally arose and walked to the side of the room. Merriwell tapped Kendall on the shoulder.
“I say, Burtis, just come over here a minute, will you?”
Kendall, wondering, accompanied the other to where the coach stood. The rest of the team followed them with curious eyes.
“Burtis,” said Payson, pulling a folded sheet of paper from his pocket, “have you ever seen this before?”
[315]
Kendall looked at it in surprise. Then, “Why, yes, sir, I think so. I drew that diagram, but I didn’t do all that writing.”
“How did you happen to make the diagram?” asked Merriwell.
“Why, a fellow came to my room one night, and we got to talking about signals; the different systems, you know; he had some scheme of his own and wanted to know what I thought of it. I didn’t think much of it, though.”
“Who was this fellow?” asked Payson.
Kendall hesitated. “Is there—is there any trouble about this?” he asked.
It was Payson’s turn to hesitate, and he looked uncertainly at Merriwell. Finally: “Yes, this has made some trouble, or very nearly.”
“Then I guess I’d better not say who the fellow was,” replied Kendall.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to, Burtis. This sheet of paper contains a full explanation of our signals for the Broad............