The first two weeks of the organization of the boat club passed away, and the members were assembled in Zephyr Hall to elect a coxswain.  According to the constitution, Frank’s term of office had expired.

“Whom do you intend to vote for, Fred?” asked Charles Hardy, who appeared to be very anxious about the election.

“I don’t know; I haven’t decided yet,” replied Fred Harper.  “You know what Captain Sedley said the other day about it.”

“Yes; but if I have got to vote, I want to get my mind made up.  I don’t see what harm there can be in talking about it a little.”

“He said he did not want any electioneering about the officers-’log-rolling,’ my father calls it.”

“Of course not,” replied Charles demurely.

“The best fellow ought to get the office,” said Fred slyly.

“Of course, but who is the best fellow?  That’s the question.  We ought to talk it over among ourselves a little,” added Charles.

“What good would that do?”

“Each fellow would know whom the others were going to vote for.”

“That would not help him to ascertain who would make the best coxswain,” Fred insisted.

“But it would help towards making a choice.”

“There will be a choice fast enough.”

“I don’t believe it.  If there is no nomination, and no understanding about the matter beforehand, every fellow will vote for a different person.  You see if there are not a dozen different ones voted for,” protested Charles.

“We can try it over again, then,” said Fred.

“I shall vote for you, and perhaps you will vote for me.”

“Perhaps I shall.”

“And that is the way it will be all through the club.”

“Charley, what do you say to giving Frank a re-election?” said Fred, with sudden energy, while the mischief seemed to beam from his eyes.

“Well, I don’t know,” replied Charles, looking intently at the floor.

“Frank has made a good coxswain; there is no rubbing that out.”

“Very good,” said Charles feebly.

“If it hadn’t been for him, Tim Bunker would have been drowned that time.”

“Couldn’t another fellow have done the same that he did?”

“Yes, if he had had the presence of mind and the energy of character which Frank has.”

“You could have done it, Fred,” said Charles.

“I don’t know about that,” replied Fred modestly.

“You hauled him in with the boat-hook.”

“Yes, but I only did what Frank told me to do.  Look at the Bunkers; they didn’t even reach the spot till we had got him on board the Zephyr.”

“I should not have been afraid but that I could have managed the boat as well as Frank did,” replied Charles, more boldly.

“I don’t know but you could, Charley,” answered Fred; “but I doubt it.”

“I am pretty sure I could.”

“Perhaps you will be elected the next coxswain, Charley,” continued Fred; and there was a slight twinkle in his mischievous eye.

“No!  Oh, no!  I’m sure I don’t want to be coxswain.”

“You don’t!”

“No; I never thought of such a thing.”

“Didn’t?”

“I’m sure I never did.”

“Then I will tell the fellows, so that they needn’t throw their votes away upon you,” said Fred roguishly.

“Well, as to that, of course I should serve if chosen.  I want to do just what the fellows want to have me do.”

“They don’t want you to be coxswain if you don’t wish to be, because there are enough of them who do desire the office.”

“Well, I don’t exactly want it, but -”

Charles suddenly paused.

“But what, Charley?”

“I want the club should have the best officer we can get.”

Fred laughed heartily.

“I want the office, Charley; I should like it first-rate,” continued he; “but I don’t expect to get it, and am perfectly willing to abide the decision of the club.  Majority rules.”

“Order,” said Frank, rapping on the table.

The boys all took their chairs; and Frank stated the business of the meeting, which was to elect a coxswain for the next two weeks.

“Our Director will be with us in a moment,” continued he, “and has something to say before we proceed with the election.”

“Here he comes,” said Fred.

“Mr. Chairman, and members of the Zephyr Boat Club,” began Captain Sedley, with a smile on his benevolent features, “you remember I cautioned you a week ago not to talk about this election.  I presume you have observed my request.  I had strong reasons for doing so.  In the first place, I do not wish to have any unpleasant feelings excited by these elections; and, in the second place, I wish you to learn the first duty of a republican citizen-to cast an independent vote.  Among boys, as among men, there is often one who wields an influence over others-an influence which is not always directed by truth and justice.  One, by his mental power or social position, controls others.  They follow his example without always inquiring whether it is good or bad.  I want you to think for yourselves; to make up your minds, without any assistance from others, in regard to the fitness of the person for whom you vote.  I desire each of you to deposit his ballot in the box, without communication with others-without telling them, or letting them know by any means, for whom you vote.  Now the box is ready, and you may separate to prepare your votes.  The poll shall be kept open ten minutes.”

Some of the boys went out into the boat-room, and others out of doors.  They were all very particular to comply to the letter with Captain Sedley’s request.  The ballot-box was kept closed, so that no one could read the names on the votes, and only opened enough to admit the slip of paper.

Before ten minutes had expired the members were all in their seats.  There was a great deal of interest manifested in the result; and not a little anxiety was visible in the expression of several faces-that of Charles Hardy in particular.

“Have you all voted?” said Frank.  “I declare the poll closed.”

“I will count the votes,” interposed Captain Sedley, “so as to give you all the benefit of the excitement.”

Taking the box in his hand, he went out into the boat-room.

“Who do you think has got it?” whispered Charles to Fred Harper.

“I have no idea; I only know whom I voted for.”

“Whom?” asked Charles.

“What would you give to know?”

“Yourself?”

“Indeed I did not!” replied Fred indignantly.

“There would be no harm in it if you did, would there?” inquired Charles.

“No harm?  It would only amount to saying, ’I am the best fellow in the club.’”

“No, not that; it would only be saying that you wanted the office.”

“Rather more than that.”

“But you said you did want it.”

“I didn’t vote for myself, anyhow.  But here comes Captain Sedley.  Hush!”

“Here is the result, Frank,” said the Director, handing him the ballots and a little slip of paper on which he had written the names and number of votes.  “Read it.”

There was a breathless silence when Frank rose, and every member exhibited the deepest interest in the proceedings.

“Whole number of votes, thirteen,” the coxswain read from the paper.  “Necessary for a choice, seven.  Charles Hardy has one; Frederic Harper has one; and Anthony Weston has eleven, and is elected coxswain of the club for the ensuing two weeks.”

“Three cheers for Tony Weston!” shouted Fred Harper, rising.  “One.”

The cheers were given with hearty good-will and emphasis.

“Mr. Chairman,” said Charles, “I move we make the vote unanimous.”

Charles had been reading the proceedings of a political nominating convention, where they make the nomination unanimous so as to show the unity of the party; and his ideas were rather confused.

“Those in favor of Anthony Weston for coxswain the next two weeks say ‘Ay,’” continued Frank.

“Ay!”

“It is a unanimous vote.  Tony, I am happy to vacate my chair for you, and I feel that it could not be filled by a more worthy member,” said Frank, leaving his armchair.

“But, Mr. Chairman, I am clerk.  I am very much obliged to the club for the honor,” said Tony, blushing up to the eyes.

“You are coxswain, Tony, and the clerkship is vacant,” added Captain Sedley.  “The members of the club, without consultation with each other, have elected you-the most convincing evidence they could possibly give of the high esteem in which they hold you.”

After some persuasion, Tony took the chair, and Fred Harper was elected clerk.  Frank took Tony’s number, and the bow oar was appropriated to him.

The business being finished, the club proceeded to the boat-room, to prepare for their first excursion under the new coxswain.  After the meeting adjourned, there was considerable inquiry for the member who had voted for Charles Hardy; but he could not be found.  Tony had voted for Fred Harper, and the conclusion that Charles had voted for himself was irresistible.

But Charles, in spite of his hypocritical character, was a well-meaning boy.  His desire to appear well, and to be “first and foremost,” sometimes led him astray; and the discipline of the club finally worked a “great improvement in him.”  He was not elected coxswain that year; for, on the first of November, the Zephyr was laid up for the winter.  Fred Harper was elected after Tony, who served his term with credit to himself and to the discipline of the club.

The Butterfly was not completed in season to be launched that year; but the following spring a second club was formed, and Tony was the first coxswain.  During the winter the Zéphyrs met regularly at their hall for mutual improvement.  At the suggestion of Fred Harper, a debating society was formed; and the members derived a great deal of pleasure, and obtained an excellent mental discipline, from their discussions.

To add to the interest of their meetings, George Weston gave them a number of familiar lectures on “California;” Captain Sedley on “Life on the Ocean;” and Mr. Hyde, the schoolmaster, on “Natural Philosophy and Chemistry.”  The boys declared they never enjoyed a winter so much; and certainly they derived a great deal of useful information from these pleasant meetings.

Tim Bunker and Joe Braman were tried at the next session of the court,-the former for stealing, and the latter for receiving stolen property,-and sentenced to the House of Correction.

George Weston’s new house was completed before winter, and the family were nicely settled before the first snow came.  The widow Weston was happy all day long in the presence of her children, and never ceased to thank God for all the blessings with which her life had been crowned,-the blessings of adversity as well as those of prosperity.

The following spring the Butterfly was launched, the new club organized, and the sports of the season opened with a grand May-day picnic and dance on Centre Island.  But I have not space to tell my young readers how Mary Weston was made Queen of May, how the Zephyr and the Butterfly raced up and down the lake, and how the latter got beaten on account of the inexperience of her crew.  I have told my story; and I leave the boat club, and all the characters, contented and happy in the enjoyment of the many blessings that were showered upon them.

What occurred the next season, when the Butterfly took part in the sports on Wood Lake, is fully related in the sequel to “The Boat Club,” called “ALL ABOARD; OR, LIFE ON THE LAKE.”