"Election to-night," answered Tom quickly. "The notice has been posted.

Come on, we'll have a scrub game. Five innings will be enough. There ought to be----"

"My uncle says----" began a voice from a small knot of non-playing spectators.

"Fenton's wound up!" cried Dutch, making an attempt to penetrate the crowd and get at the offending nephew of the former coach.

"Can him!" shouted Joe Jackson.

"Put your uncle on ice!" added Pete Backus.

"Leave him out after dark, and Proc. Zane will catch him," came from Snail Looper.

"Well, I was only going to say," went on Ford, but such a storm of protesting howls arose that his voice was drowned.

"And that's the chap they talk of for manager," said Phil to Tom disgustedly.

"Oh, I guess it's all talk," remarked the pitcher. "We will rush Ed Kerr through, and the season will soon start."

The scrub game began. It was not remarkable for brilliant playing, either in the line of fielding or batting. Tom, though, did some fine work in pitching, and he and Dutch worked together like well-built machines. Tom struck out three men, one after the other, in the second inning, and repeated the trick in the last. Sid Henderson rather surprised the coach by making a safe hit every time he was up, a record no one else approached that day, for Rod Evert, who was doing the "twirling" for the team opposed to Tom's, was considered a good handler of the horsehide.

"Good work, Henderson," complimented Mr. Leighton. But Sid did not seem particularly pleased.

"Everybody on hand for the election to-night," commanded Tom, as the game ended, the pitcher's team having won by a score of eight to four.

There was a large throng a.s.sembled in the gymnasium that evening, for at Randall sports reigned supreme in their seasons, and the annual election of a baseball manager was something of no small importance. For several reasons no manager had been selected at the close of the previous season, when Tom had been unanimously selected as captain, and it now devolved upon the students who were members of the athletic committee to choose one.

As has been explained, among the players themselves, or, rather, among the majority, Ed Kerr, the catcher of the previous season was favored, but, of late there had been activity looking to the choosing of some one else.

There were vague rumors floating about the meeting room, as Tom Parsons went up on the platform, and called the a.s.semblage to order. It was noticed that Bert Bascome, a freshman who was said to be quite wealthy, was the center of a group of excited youths, of whom Ford Fenton was one. Ford had tried for the 'varsity the previous season, had failed, and was once more in line. As for Bascome, he, too, wanted to wear the coveted "R."

"Politics over there all right," observed Phil Clinton to Dutch. "Any idea of how strong they are?"

"Don't believe they can muster ten votes," was the answer. "We'll put Ed in all right."

Tom called for nominations for chairman, and Mr. Leighton, who was in the hall, was promptly chosen, he being acceptable to both sides.

"You all know what we are here for," began the coach, "and the sooner we get it over with the better, I presume. Nominations for a manager of the ball nine are in order."

Jerry Jackson was on his feet in an instant.

"Mr. Chairman," he began.

"Are you speaking for yourself or your brother?" called Dutch.

Bang! went the chairman's gavel, but there was a laugh at the joke, for Jerry and Joe, the "Jersey twins" were always so much in accord that what one did the other always sanctioned. Yet the query of Dutch seemed to disturb Jerry.

"Mr. Chairman," he began again. "I wish----"

"Help him along, Joe," sung out Snail Looper. "Jerry is going to make a wish."

"Boys, boys," pleaded the coach.

"My uncle says----" came from Ford Fenton, indiscreetly.

"Sit down!"

"Put him out!"

"Muzzle him!"

"Silence!"

"Get a policeman!"

"Turn the hose on him!"

"Don't believe he ever had an uncle!"

These were some of the cries that greeted Ford.

Bang! Bang! went the gavel, and order was finally restored, but Fenton did not again venture to address the chair.

"Mr. Chairman," began Jerry Jackson once more, and this time he secured a hearing, and was recognized. "I wish to place in nomination," he went on, "a manager who, I am sure, will fulfill the duties in the most acceptable manner; one who knows the game from home plate to third base, who has had large experience, who is a jolly good fellow--who----"

"Who is he?"

"Name him!"

"Don't be so long-winded about it!"

"Tell us his name!"

"He's going to name Ford's uncle!"

Once more the horse-play, led by Dutch, broke out.

Bang! Bang! went Mr. Leighton's gavel again.

"I nominate Ed Kerr!" sung out Jerry.

"Second it!" came from his brother in a flash.

"Mr. Kerr has been nominated," spoke the chairman. "Are there any others?"

"Move the nominations be closed," came from Tom quickly, but, before it could be seconded, Bert Bascome was on his feet. He had a sneering, supercilious air, that was in distinct bad taste, yet he seemed to have a sort of following, as, indeed, any youth in college may have, who is willing to freely spend his money.

"One moment, Mr. Chairman," began Bascome, and so anxious were the others to hear what was coming that they did not interrupt. "When I came to Randall college," went on the freshman, with an air as if he had conferred a great favor by his act, "I was given to understand that the spirit of sportsmanship and fair play was a sort of a heritage."