THE FIRST BALLOT.

Tommy and his forces on High Bluff seemed to be paralyzed by the sudden and unexpected movement initiated by Briscoe, and followed up by my party. They did not pay much attention to voting just then, though quite a number of them had deposited their ballots before the falling of the pine tree. We waited a reasonable time to be assaulted; but Major Toppleton seemed to be too much astonished to organize an attack upon the bold assailants. He stood in front of his men, consulting earnestly with Haven.

“Why don’t you move on, and pitch into them?” said Jed, who had come over on the pine, with the axe in his hand.

“We are not going to pitch into them,” replied Briscoe.

“We don’t want any of them to escape,” I added.

“Leave that to me,” said Jed. “I will stand guard here, while you go up and do your voting. I can handle the whole crowd.”

Our first business was to deposit our votes. We had already provided ourselves with ballots.

“Music!” said Briscoe; and Fryes started Hail, Columbia.

Breaking into column, we marched towards the tin kettle, which constituted the ballot-box. This movement ended the conference between the two leaders of the other side. The major ordered his men into line. By this time Bowles’s party had gathered around the voting place, as they had been instructed to do by him, in order to defend the purity of the election. It was plain that Tommy did not intend to do any fighting. It would have been very foolish for him to do anything of the kind. He marched his adherents up to the vicinity of the rock where the ballot-box was deposited, and halted. Briscoe did the same. While the latter was preparing to send his men up to vote in small parties, Haven appeared before us.

“Major Toppleton desires to know what your intentions are,” said the messenger, in a haughty tone, which, however, indicated more of disgust at our proceedings than of pride at his own.

“We came over to vote,” replied Briscoe.

“I told you we were coming over, Haven,” I added.

“You told me, too, that you were going to lay that bridge; but you didn’t,” sneered the ambassador.

“What bridge?” I inquired, smiling.

“The bridge down by the road,” snapped he.

“I beg your pardon.”

“Didn’t you say so?”

“Not at all; I had no more idea of laying down that bridge than I had of drying up the lake.”

“What did you say so for, then?”

“I think I did not say so. I simply told you we should have a bridge in season to come over and vote, I believe the promise has been kept; at any rate, we are here, and in good time. I think you said the polls would be closed at twenty minutes past twelve.”

“Major Toppleton does not propose to have the election continued, under the present circumstances,” replied Haven.

“Why not, I should like to inquire?” interposed Briscoe.

“He is not going to have the election carried by force of arms.”

“There is to be no force of arms. All parties can vote quietly, and the thing shall be fairly done.”

“But you have come over here, and taken possession.”

“We have taken possession of nothing. There is the ballot-box just as Major Toppleton placed it, guarded by the committee whom he selected himself,” persisted Briscoe.

“The major intends to postpone the election till it can be conducted fairly,” added Haven.

“Allow me to suggest that it is not in the power of the major to postpone the election. It was deferred, by vote of the battalion, to this day and hour; and unless the battalion vote otherwise, it must take place at the present time.”

“I will report what you say to him,” said Haven, who could not conveniently answer the argument of the senior captain.

“If Major Toppleton desires to take a vote on the question of postponement, we are quite willing to do so,” added Briscoe.

The messenger returned to the major; but, while the conference between them was in progress, I took care that the voting should go on, in order that the time might not expire before our portion of the battalion had deposited their ballots. Tommy’s committee stood around the tin kettle, and compelled each voter to hold up his ticket, so as to make sure that only one vote was put in the box by a single person. They retained their muskets, and were zealous in the discharge of their duty. The nine fellows who had come over with Bowles stood behind the committee as their leader had directed them to do, the moment the pine tree fell, in order to prevent the election from being suspended, or the ballot-box carried away by any of Tommy’s adherents.

As our votes had been previously prepared, it required but a few moments for us to drop them into the tin kettle. Everything was done in an entirely orderly manner, under the supervision of the committee. I could not see the slightest chance for cheating, and I did not believe there was any fraud on either side. As our men voted, they resumed their places on the slope of the hill, between the committee and the pine tree bridge.

“Tommy’s fellows are fooling away the time,” said Briscoe, anxiously.

“That is their lookout.”

“Our fellows have all voted.”

“Some of Tommy’s have also. If a quorum of the battalion have voted, the election will be according to the by-laws, and we are all right.”

“Go up to Tommy, and tell him, that as he does not choose to put the question on postponement, we shall consider this as an election, and abide by the result, whatever it may be.”

I walked hastily to the spot where Tommy and Haven were discussing the difficulties of the situation. As I approached the major, I drew my sword, and respectfully saluted him.

“I have a message from Captain Briscoe, senior captain, in command of that portion of the battalion which was excluded from High Bluff,” I began.

“I don’t recognize Captain Briscoe as in command of any portion of the battalion,” returned Tommy, with an effort to be dignified. “I have suspended him.”

“Then I will speak for myself.”

“I have suspended you, also.”

“We are both ready to answer to any charges. I believe we are entitled to vote, and we have done so. Our party have all deposited their ballots. As you have not chosen to take the question upon a postponement, we shall regard this as the election, and abide the result, whatever it may be. This is my message. I have delivered it, and will now retire.”

“Do you think an election held under these circumstances ought to be considered valid?” demanded Tommy.

“I think the vote has been fairly taken, by a committee appointed by yourself. Our party are satisfied. We intend to have the vote counted, and the result declared.”

“You mean it!” exclaimed the major, with an attempt at a sneer, which was only a partial success.

“Several of your party have not voted, though the time fixed by you for keeping the polls open has expired.”

“Suppose we do not choose to vote.”

“That’s your affair. A quorum has already voted, and that is enough. The moment the result is declared, we shall place ourselves under the orders of the new major, whoever he may be.”

I saluted the major again, turned, and retired. We could do nothing more; so Briscoe and I walked up to the vicinity of the voting place. I suggested to the committee that it was time to close the polls.

“All that have not voted will do so at once!” shouted the chairman of the committee, loud enough to be heard all over the bluff. “Polls will close in a minute.”

“Are you going to close the polls before all have voted?” demanded Tommy, rushing up to the tin kettle with his ballot in his hand.

“It was your order that the polls should be closed at twenty minutes past twelve,” replied the chairman.

“This election is postponed till further orders,” said the major.

“No! No! No!” yelled our party, who had marched up to the spot.

“It cannot be postponed except by vote of the battalion,” I remonstrated.

“Then I will take a vote. Those in favor--”

“Stop a moment, if you please, Major Toppleton,” interposed Briscoe. “There is no motion before the battalion. No question can be put except upon motion.”

“Mr. Commander, I move that the election be postponed for one week,” said Haven, coming to the assistance of his chief.

“Those in favor--”

“I object!” shouted Briscoe.

“I don’t care if you do object,” replied Tommy, angrily.

“The motion has not been seconded.”

“Second the motion,” shouted one of the major’s adherents.

“It is moved and seconded that this election be postponed for one week,” continued Tommy. “Those in favor will say, ay.”

“Ay!” cried all of the major’s party.

“Those opposed will say, no.”

“No!” yelled the rebels, with a vim which proved that they understood the case perfectly.

“It is a vote!” added Tommy, triumphantly.

“I doubt the vote,” said I, sure of the result, if we had fair play.

“The vote is doubted.”

“I call for a division,” said Faxon.

It has always been our custom, when a vote was doubted, to divide the house, each side marching between two tellers to be counted. The major evidently wished to escape this ceremony but it was impossible and the division took place. The conclusion could not be escaped; and, either by mistake or otherwise, some of Tommy’s party voted with the rebels, so that the result was fifty-nine for postponing the election to ninety-one against it. Tommy repeated the statement of the vote, though it almost choked him. Without a word, he went up to the kettle, and dropped his vote into it. His example was followed by all the others who had not voted.

The committee were directed to count the votes. They did so, and handed the result to the major, on a piece of paper. He read it as follows:--

“Whole number of votes, 153 Necessary to a choice, 77

Thomas Toppleton, 68 Robert Briscoe, 85

Robert Briscoe is elected major.”