d seemed cold somehow.

A few days after Jimmy Lufton had returned to New York he received six
letters from the following persons: Margaret Wakefield, Senator and Mrs.
Wakefield, Jessie Lynch, and Colonel and Mrs. Lynch. Any time James
Lufton tired of his job he could get another from Senator Wakefield or
Colonel Lynch. That was stated plainly in the letters of the two
fathers.

"And all because of an anti-suffrage speech that was never made,"
thought Jimmy.

CHAPTER XII.

FRIENDLY RIVALS.

It is not often that rivals for the same office are champions for each
other, and yet that is what happened when the seniors elected their
permanent president toward the end of October. It followed that Molly,
as the most popular girl in the junior class, would be elected president
the next year.

"Of course you'll get it," Nance assured her as the time approached.

"It's a great honor," replied Molly, "but, oh, Nance, I'm such a
diffident, shy person with a shrinking nature----"

"You mean," interrupted Nance, "that Margaret wants it so badly, you
can't bear to deprive her of it."

"No, that isn't it. It's not sentiment, really, but I can't make
speeches and I haven't got the organizing nature."

Nance shook her head.

"You ought not to throw away gifts from the gods. It's as bad as hiding
your light under a bushel."

Nevertheless, Molly was sure she did not want the place and she hoped
Margaret would get it. As for Margaret, the spirit of a politician and
the spirit of a loyal friend were struggling for mastery within her
soul. The girls knew by this time what sort of president _she_ could
make. They were well acquainted with her powers of oratory and
organization. Nobody understood as well as she did the ins and outs of
parliamentary law; how to appoint committees and chairmen and count yeas
and nays; in other words, how to swing the class along in proper form.
They knew all this, but hitherto it had been necessary to call it to
their minds each year, when by the sheer force of oratory, Margaret won
the election.

But, as luck would have it, on the day set for the election Margaret,
who had taken a deep cold from her upsetting in the lake, was too hoarse
to say a word. It would have moved a heart of stone to see her, sitting
in the president's chair sucking a lemon, as she called the class to
order in a husky tone of voice that had not the faintest resemblance to
the organ she had used with such force for