Don Strong, Patrol Leader | Page 4

shook. He wrote "Andy Ford" quickly, and folded the paper. He caught a glimpse of Tim sending sharp glances from face to face.
"Assistant Patrol Leader Ford," Mr. Wall called.
Andy went up and dropped his ballot.
"Scout Lally."
Tim voted, came back to his stool and sat biting his lips.
Finally all the votes were in. The patrol leaders carried the hat aside, counted the votes, and came back to Mr. Wall.
"The result is--" The Scoutmaster paused. "Scout Lally, three votes; Scout Strong, three votes; Assistant Patrol Leader Ford, one vote. As no candidate has received a majority, another ballot is necessary."
Don wondered if he had heard the Scoutmaster correctly. Three votes for him? He saw Tim eye him with dark suspicion. Andy's voice sounded in his ear:
"Did you vote for me?"
He nodded.
"Well, cut it out. Next time vote for yourself."
Don shook his head slowly. This thing of voting for himself did not appeal.
"If you vote for me," Andy said sharply, "this will be a tie until the cows come home. Don't be a chump. Tim is voting for himself."
Still Don was undecided. Besides, he could not get over the wonder of finding himself with three votes.
"How about a man who runs for president of the United States?" Andy insisted. "Do you think he votes for his opponent?"
"We are ready to ballot again," said Mr. Wall.
"Wake up," said Andy.
Don did not know what to do. There was no use in voting for Andy. Alex would not take the place and Bobbie Brown was altogether too young a scout. What should he do?
"Assistant Patrol Leader Ford," called the Scoutmaster.
Don, in desperation, wrote his own name.
This time, when the patrol leaders brought Mr. Wall the result, they put the hat out of the way, and the troop knew that it would not be needed again.
"Scout Lally," Mr. Wall read, "three votes; Scout Strong, four votes, Scout Strong is elected patrol leader of the Wolves."
Five minutes later the meeting was over. Don had been formally saluted by the Foxes and the Bears, and a patrol leader's stripes had been pinned, temporarily, to his sleeve. Flushed and excited, and still amazed at the turn fortune had taken, he faced about to where his own patrol was gathered. All at once the flush died out of his cheeks.
"When I asked Bobbie for his vote," said Tim, "it wasn't fair. But you could ask the fellows, couldn't you?"
"I didn't ask anybody," said Don.
Tim laughed. "When do you think I was born--yesterday? How did you get the votes if you didn't ask for them? We'll see about this."
He walked out of headquarters. Ritter and Wally Woods whispered together, looked at Don, and seemed unable to make up their minds. Finally they edged their way toward the door.
There was work for Don to do--checking up what property the Wolf patrol owned and signing that he received it in good condition. But all joy was gone from the honor that had come to him. The Wolves were divided among themselves! What chance would they have for the Scoutmaster's Cup?
CHAPTER II
THE FIRST CLASH
Barbara and Mr. Strong were sitting on the porch when Don reached home. He reclined on the top step and fanned himself with his hat.
"Was Tim elected?" Barbara asked.
"No," said Don; "I was."
"Don!" The girl sprang to her feet. "Isn't that fine! We must celebrate with a piece of berry cake--"
But Don said gloomily that he did not feel like celebrating. He told about having won through the aid of his own ballot.
Barbara, concerned, looked at her father. "Was it wrong for Don to vote for himself?"
"Not at all," said Mr. Strong. "A candidate always votes for himself on a secret ballot."
Don felt a load leave his heart. He decided that perhaps he would like some berry cake. While he ate he told himself that there was no sense in worrying about Tim. Tim might get over his disappointment and not make a bit of trouble.
Next morning, while he built bird-houses, his mind was busy with eager plans for his patrol. The first-aid contest would really be a test of skill. With the exception of Bobbie Brown and Wally Woods, every member of the Wolves was a first-class scout. They knew the theory of their first aid. The thing to do was to make them freshen up in the actual work of doing.
"We'll have to get on the job at once," Don told himself. "I'll call a patrol meeting for Monday night. If Bobbie comes around--"
Bobbie rode up to the gate. "Hello, Don."
"Hello, Bobbie. I was just hoping you'd show up. Take a scout message for me?"
"Sure!" The boy held on to the palings of the fence and did not dismount.
"Pass the word that there'll be a patrol meeting at my house Monday night."
Bobbie rode away as though the message had to