Free Sons of Fortune by Jeffrey Archer Page B

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.
    “Ralph
Elliot, who else?” said Tom.
    “He’s
been working on his campaign since the beginning of last term.”
    “But
that’s against the rules.”
    “I
don’t think Elliot has ever cared much about rules, and as he knows you’re far
more popular than he is, we can look forward to a dirty campaign.”
    “But
I’m not going down that road . .”
    “So
we’ll have to take the Kennedy route.”
    “What
do you have in mind?”
    “You
should open your campaign by challenging Elliot to a debate.”
    “He’ll
never accept.”
    “Then
you win either way. If he does accept, you’ll wipe the floor with him. If he
doesn’t, we can play the “he flunked it” card.”
    “So
how would you set up such a challenge?”
    “Send
him a letter, a copy of which I’ll post on the bulletin board.”
    “But
you’re not allowed to post notices without the principal’s permission.”
    “By
the time they take it down, most people will have read it, and those that
haven’t will want to know what it said.”
    “And
by then I’ll have been disqualified.”
    “Not
while the principal thinks Elliot might win.”
    It
was six thirty on the first day of term when Nat and Tom stood alone in the
parking lot. The first vehicle to come through the gates was the principal’s.
    “Good
morning, Cartwright,” he barked, as he climbed out of his car, “ from your excess of enthusiasm at this early hour, am I to
assume that you’re running for president?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Excellent,
and who is your main rival?”
    “Ralph
Elliot.”
    The
principal frowned. “Then it will be a fiercely fought competition, because
Elliot won’t roll over easily.”
    “True,”
admitted Tom as the principal disappeared toward his study, leaving the two of
them to greet the second car. The occupant turned out to be a terrified new
boy, who ran away when Nat approached him, and worse, the third car was full of
Elliot supporters, who quickly fanned across the parking lot, obviously having
already been through a dress rehearsal.
    “Damn,”
said Tom, “our first team