Spokes, feeling it due to the dignity of
the Club to put an end to this scene; "this is a private meeting.
You've no right to be here. Nobody wants you."

"Dear me! was that the silvery voice of toffee-loving Spokes?" said the
Hermit, amid a shout of laughter; for everyone knew Spokes's weak point.
"He says 'Look here!' Really I cannot, until a sponge has been passed
over the honest face and shorn it of some of its clinging sweetness.
But, gentlemen of the 'Select'--'Select' is the word, isn't it?"

"If you don't go out, you'll get chucked out," said Bull.

"Oh, wonderful English! wonderful elocution!" said the Hermit. "Ah, it
is good to be here. Ah! he comes, he comes!"

It was a critical moment as the burly Bull came down the room. Had he
done so five minutes sooner Freckleton might have found himself single-
handed. But already his genial banter had told among the more
susceptible of his hearers, and he could count at any rate on fair play.
For the rest, he had little anxiety.

"Wait a moment," said he, rising to his feet, and motioning to Bull to
wait: "Sociables, Bull wants to fight me. Do you want me to fight him?"

"Yes, yes," shouted every one, delighted at the prospect of a fray, and
many of them quite indifferent as to who conquered.

"Very well, gentlemen," said the Hermit; "I will obey you on one
condition, and one only."

"What is it?" they shouted eagerly.

"This: that if I beat Bull, you make me your president; or, if you think
it fairer, if I beat Bull first and then Spokes, you elect me. What do
you say?"

The Hermit was staking high with a vengeance. Little had he dreamed,
when he came down to have a little talk with the "Select Sociables," of
such a proposal. It was the sight of Bull walking down the room which
had furnished the inspiration, and he was daring enough to seize the
chance while he had it and risk all upon it.

In his secret heart he was not absolutely sure of vanquishing his
opponent. For Bull was a noted fighting man, and had made his mark in
Templeton. The Hermit had never fought in his life. And yet he knew a
little about boxing. He was strong, cool, and sound of wind; and knew
enough of human nature to avoid the least appearance of doubt or
hesitation in a crisis like this.

"What do you say?" asked he.

"Rather! If you lick, we'll make you president," shouted the Club.

"As it is a business matter," said Freckleton, "and will have to go on
the minute