HEROES AND A SNEAK
Turnback Haynes watched the game closely, darkly.
He wanted to note and to remember every play near the Army's left
end today. Should the Navy win the day's battle, then Cadets
Haynes felt sure he could make a large number of men in the second
class at the Military Academy believe that Prescott had allowed
his ancient friendship to stand in the way of an Army victory.
"Great Caesar, I might even succeed in getting to be president
of the class yet!" muttered the turnback. "There they go again!"
A second or two later the wild cheering began again.
For the Army was charging with the ball, well down in Navy territory,
and Prescott, with the pigskin safely tucked, was using his most
wily tactics to get by Dave Darrin.
And Dick succeeded, too, though only for eight yards, when Dave
had the satisfaction of helping to pull his old-time chum down
to the ground in the interests of the Navy.
For a little while the ball had been over on Army ground. Now,
however, it was going steadily toward the Navy's goal line, and
the interest of the spectators was intense.
The time of the game was more than half gone. Once the Navy had
been forced to carry the pig skin behind its own line, gaining
thus a fresh lease of life in the game. But, of course, the safety
scored two against the Navy. For a while afterward it had looked
as though that, would be the score for the game---two to nothing.
"If Brayton uses Prescott just right, and doesn't call on them
too often, they'll get the ball over the Navy's goal line yet,"
confided Lieutenant Carney to a brother officer who stood at his
side.
"The Navy line-up is a great one this year," replied his comrade.
"For myself I'd be satisfied to see the score end as it stands---two
to nothing."
"Without a touchdown on either side!" questioned Lieutenant Carney,
with a trace of scorn in his voice. "That wouldn't be real sport,
old fellow!"
"I know; but it would be at least a safe finish for the Army,"
responded the other.
Just then Quarterback Boyle's voice was heard giving the signal:
"Eight---seventeen---four!"
Lieutenant Carney gave his friend's arm a slight nudge.
By way of Greg the ball came to Dick, who, already in fleet motion,
was none the less ready for the pass.
With the ball under his arm, Prescott started. Almost in an instant
Dave and Dan piled upon him, ere Greg could get in for effective
interference.
Two more downs and the Navy had the ball.
Now Darrin, with Dalzell's close elbow-touch throughout, started a
series of brilliant plays. To be sure, Dave didn't make all the
runs, but he made the larger part of them.
Turnback Haynes's eyes began to snap.
Dave Darrin was playing with fire in his eyes.
Prescott was fighting back, doggedly, sullenly it almost seemed,
but Darrin was putting on his best streak of the day. Ere the Navy
was obliged to give up the ball once more it had crossed the line,
and was twelve yards down in Army territory.
Nor did the Army succeed in getting the ball back over the center
line. Once more the Navy took the ball and began to work wonders
with it. Within fifteen yards of the Army goal line the middies
carried the ball, by easy stages.
Dan Dalzell, for an instant, caught Greg's glance and sent him
a look of comical warning.
Holmes stiffened, though he returned the look in all personal
friendliness.
"Don't let Dave do it---whatever he'll be up to next," begged
Greg, in an appealing whisper. "Dick, I'll stay beside you---to
the death!"
It was another right-end pass for the Navy, backed by a solid
charge.
Worse, in the impact that followed Dave succeeded, somehow, in
outwitting even Prescott's stern vigilance.
Dick Prescott gave vent to a gasp. He felt his heart thumping
as he wheeled, dashing after Dave.
But Darrin was in his element now, neither to be stopped, nor
overtaken. Dodging with marvellous agility and craft three Army
men who sought to bar his way, Dave went pantingly over the Army
goal line---scoring a touchdown!
What a fearful tumult ascended from the seats of the Navy's sympathizers
over on the stands!
The Navy had proved itself, by scoring the only touchdown.
Lieutenant Carney groaned inwardly. Two to five now---and the
Army coach saw no more hope of scoring for this day.
Flushed, happy, the midshipmen ran back to form their line for
the try for goal.
That kick missed fire. No matter! Five to two for the Navy,
anyhow!
At the signal the Army and Navy lined up to fight out what was
left of time to play the game.
Naval Academy band and the whole navel crowd were having the
jubilation all their own way.
The midshipmen, having proved slight superiority over the Army,
could doubtless prevent more scoring in this game.
In fact, the Navy captain had just passed this wood to the members
of his team:
"Score, of course, if we can. But, above all, keep the Army from
scoring!"
It was the Navy's turn to make the kick-off. This gave the Army
at least the chance of starting the running with the ball.
Prescott and Holmes had shown as yet no signs of cave in.
Every player on the Navy team looked to see this swift, tricky
army pair make the first effort of the new series.
He carried it ten yards, too, ere he was obliged to go to the
ground with the pigskin under him. The next play was made at
the center of the Army line.
What was the matter? wondered many of the Army watchers. Was
Brayton becoming dissatisfied with his left wing?
"Humph!" rejoined Haynes sourly.
But the third time that the ball was put in play it went swiftly
to Prescott. Instead of trying to make his way around the end,
Dick suddenly sped some what to the right. Darrin had gone in
the opposite direction, yet, thoroughly familiar with his old
chum's tricky ways of play, Dave had his eyes wide open. So he
wheeled, rushing at Prescott. But he bumped, instead, with Greg,
a fraction of a second before Dalzell could reach the spot and
take a hand.
Then the whole Army line charged down on the endangered spot.
Dick was through, and the Navy men were having all they do.
In a twinkling Prescott had sped, on, now was he caught and downed
until he had the ball within twelve yards of the Navy's goal line.
Right off the Army cheer-master was on the job. The corps yell
was raised with Prescott's name and Holmes's.
Brayton looked flushed and happy. He hoped yet to show these
over-confident middies something.
Again the line-up was made for the snapback. The midshipmen players
were now justifiably nervous, though they gave no sign of the fact.
Again the signal was given. Holmes received the ball and started.
The whole Army line veered to the left. The Navy moved to mass
in support of Darrin and Dalzell.
Yet, just as the Navy men thought they could stop Greg, it turned
out that Prescott carried the pigskin.
Nor did Cadet Prescott lose any time at all in trying to buck the line.
Ere the attention of the Navy had been drawn away from Holmes,
Prescott was off on a slanting line around the Navy's right end.
Even Dave Darrin was properly fooled this time. Dick had only to
shake off a halfback and the fullback and he was over the goal line,
holding down the ball.
Never before had Franklin Field heard a greater din than now arose.
The Army Band was now playing furiously, yet the musicians barely
heard themselves. The black, gold and gray pennants of the Army
were waving frantically over half the field. The noise of cheering
must have been heard a mile away.
From the cadets themselves came some Army yell for which the
cheer-master had signaled, but no one heard what it was.
The noise continued until the line-up had been effected for the
kick for goal.
Brayton, flushed with delight, chose to make the kick himself.
The pigskin soared, describing a beautiful curve. Between the
goal posts it went, dropping back of the line.
Gloom had fallen over the middies, who realized that but three
minutes time was left.
Swiftly as could be, the line-up was made for the kick-off. It
was the Army's turn to start the ball, the Navy's to come back
with it, if possible, into Army territory.
The Navy soon succeeded in getting the pigskin a trifle over the
middle line. But the time was too short in which to do anything
decisive. The Army was strictly on the defensive, taking no chances.
Time was called.
The Army had won, eight to five!
When it was all over the middies cheered the victors as lustily as
anyone, though sore hearts beat under the blue uniforms of Annapolis.
West Points cadets, on the other hand, were wild with joy.
Again and again they sent up the rousing corps yell for Prescott
and Holmes, with Brayton's name added.
Turnback Haynes, finding no one to listen to him now, in anything
he might have to say against Prescott, turned to stare at the
heaving lines of gray.
To himself, Haynes muttered curiously:
"Humph!"
That one word did not, however, do justice to Haynes's frame of mind.
He was wild with jealousy and hatred, but dared not show it.
That fellow Prescott will have his head fearfully swelled and
be more unbearable than ever! growled Haynes to himself. Confound
him, he has no business at all in the Army! Why should he be?
Then, after a pause, a cunning look crept slowly into the eyes
of the turnback, as he throbbed under his breath:
If I can have anything to do with it, he wont be much longer in
the Army!
For just a moment, ere the teams left the field, the old Gridley
chums had a chance to rush over to each other.
"I was afraid of you, Dick," Dave confessed. "Not more than I was
of you, Dave, laughed Prescott."
"Did you find the Army such easy stuff to use as a doormat, Dan?"
queried Greg dryly.
"Oh, it--it--it was the fault of the new rules," retorted Midshipman
Dalzell, making a wry face. "You know, Greg, you never could play
much football. But the new rules favor the muff style of playing."
Only a few more words could the quartette exchange. There was
time, however, for a few minutes of talk before the West Pointers
were obliged to leave for their train.
Greg, sighed Dick, if we only had Dave and Dan playing on the same
team with us, such a game would be great!
"Oh, well," murmured Greg, "whether Annapolis or West Point lugged
off the actual score, the service won, anyway. For the Army and
Navy are inseparable units of the service."
It was a very orderly and dignified lot of cadets who filed aboard
the cadet section of the train to leave for home. Once the train
was well on its way out of Philadelphia, however, the pent-up
enthusiasm of the happy sons of the Army broke loose, nor did
the tactical officers with them make any effort to restrain the
merry enthusiasm.
Some of the cadets went from car to car, in search of more excitement.
Dick Prescott soon became so tired of hero-worship that he slipped
along through the rear car a few feet at a time until, at last,
unobserved, he managed to make his way out on to the rear platform.
Unobserved, that is, by all save one. Turnback Haynes, who had
been watching Dick with a sort of wild fascination, noted Dick's
latest move.
The train, which had been traveling at high speed, now slowed down
to some twenty-five miles an hour in order to pass over a river.
While the attention of all the rest was turned toward the front
end of the car, Haynes, with lowered eyes and half-slinking manner,
made his way toward the rear of the car.
Peering through the glass in the door, the turnback could make
out Cadet Prescott standing outside. Dick's back was toward the
door.
A diabolical light flashed in Haynes's eyes for a moment. He
shook from head to foot, but, by a strong effort of will, he stayed
his quivering.
One stealthy look over his shoulder Haynes took, then suddenly opened
the door, stepping outside.
Cadet Prescott half turned. There was no time to do more, when
he felt himself seized in a strong clutch.
There was hardly any struggle. It all seemed to be over in a
second or so. Cadet Prescott plunged headlong through the darkness
of the night into the dark river below!