Fletcher was invited to read the lesson in chapel that Sunday morning, making it abundantly clear who the principal would have voted for. During lunch, he and Jimmy visited every dorm, to ask the boys how they felt about the food. “A sure vote winner,” the senator had assured them, “even if you can’t do anything about it.” That evening, they climbed into bed exhausted. Jimmy set the alarm for five thirty. Fletcher groaned.
“A master stroke,” said Jimmy as they stood outside assembly the following morning waiting for the boys to go off to their classrooms.
“Brilliant,” admitted Fletcher.
“I’m afraid so,” said Jimmy. “Not that I can complain, because I would have recommended that you do exactly the same thing, given the circumstances.”
The two of them stared across at Steve Rodgers, who was standing on crutches by the exit to the hall allowing the boys to sign their autographs on his plastered leg.
“A master stroke,” repeated Jimmy. “It brings a new meaning to the sympathy vote. Perhaps we should ask the question, do you want a cripple for president?”
“One of the greatest Presidents in the history of this country was a cripple,” Fletcher reminded his campaign manager.
“Then there’s only one thing for it,” said Jimmy, “you’ll have to spend the next twenty-four hours in a wheelchair.”
Although everyone knew the result wouldn’t be announced until nine o’clock, the assembly hall was packed long before the principal made his entrance.
Fletcher sat in the back row, with his head bowed, while Jimmy stared directly in front of him. “I should have got up earlier every morning,” said Fletcher.
“I should have broken your leg,” Jimmy responded.
The principal, accompanied by the chaplain, marched down the aisle as if to show God was somehow involved in who became president of student government at Hotchkiss. The principal walked to the front of the stage and cleared his throat.
“The result of the election for student government president,” said Mr. Fleming, “is Fletcher Davenport 207 votes, Steve Rodgers 173 votes. I therefore declare Fletcher Davenport to be the new president.”
Fletcher immediately walked across and shook hands with Steve, who smiled warmly, looking almost relieved. Fletcher turned around to see Harry Gates standing by the door. The senator bowed respectfully to the new president.
“You never forget your first election victory,” was all he said.
They both ignored Jimmy, who was leaping up and down, unable to contain himself.
“I believe you know my vice-president, sir,” Fletcher replied.
“Will anyone bother to stand against you?” asked Diane Coulter.
“No one I can’t beat.”
“What about Nat Cartwright?”
“Not while it’s known that he’s the principal’s favorite, and if elected will simply carry out his wishes; at least that’s what my supporters are telling everyone.”
“And don’t let’s forget the way he treated my sister.”
“I thought it was you who dumped him? I didn’t even realize he knew your sister.”
“He didn’t, but that didn’t stop him trying to make a move on her when he came around to the house to see me.”
“Does anyone else know about this?”
“Yes, my brother Dan. He caught him in the kitchen with his hand up her skirt. My sister complained bitterly she just couldn’t stop him.”
“Did she?” He paused. “Do you think your brother would be willing to back me for president?”
“Yes, but there’s not much he can do while he’s at Princeton.”
“Oh yes there is,” said Elliot. “To start with…”
“Who’s my main rival?” asked Nat.