tired of ballots and wouldn't listen to him. George wouldn't go out and humiliate a fellow just to get a laugh." He stared at the ceiling and called himself a fool.
"I told Praska I wouldn't be president," Johnny went on. "You can ask him. I can't do the things a president would have to do. I must—I must—." He stuttered and paused, unable to find the word.
"You mean you're going to decline?" came from the rear of the room.
"Decline," he said eagerly; "that's it. Yes; I want to decline. I—I'm not the kind of fellow to be president."
They gave Johnny another cheer then—not a cheer of thanksgiving because he would not take the place, but a cheer of appreciation. There was an unexpected manliness about his speech, and it had won them. Praska, watching the room, heaved a breath of relief, and a worry that had tormented him vanished. The fellows would never tell Johnny the real reason they had voted for him. Not one of them would hurt his feelings.
"This," said Mr. Banning, "is rather an unusual state of affairs. It would seem that the next highest candidate for president"
"Mr. Chairman," said Praska, "I cannot con-
