READY TO TRIM WEST POINT
"Have had an experience, sir, that we shall never forget, and one
that we wouldn't have missed!"
Thus spoke Dave Darrin the, following afternoon, as he saluted
the young officers of the "Dodger" before going over the side
as the boat lay alongside the wall of the basin.
To which the other midshipmen agreed.
"We have enjoyed having you aboard," replied Lieutenant Jack Benson.
"None of us will ever forget this cruise."
Then the six midshipmen strode briskly along the walks until they
reached Bancroft Hall.
It wasn't long ere news of the adventure of the night before got
whispered along the decks. Then Dave and Dan, Farley and Page,
Jetson and Wolgast all had so much midshipman company that it
was a relief when the evening study hours came around.
All six of the midshipmen had to tell the story of their submarine
experience until all of them fairly hated to talk about the matter.
Seaman Morton was never heard from again, and so did not come
in for his share of the excitement. However, it was not destined
to last long, for the football season was at its height and every
blue-clad middy thought, talked and dreamed about the Navy team.
A good team it was, too, and a good year for the Navy. The young
men of the Naval Academy played one of their most brilliant seasons
of football.
Dave, by a bigger effort than any one understood, forced back
his interest in the gridiron until he played a brilliant game.
The Navy won more victories than it had done before in any one
of fifteen seasons of football.
Yet report said that the Army, too, was playing a superb game,
considering that it had been deprived of its two best players,
Prescott and Holmes.
Up to the last Dave continued to hope that Cadet Dick Prescott
might be restored to the Army eleven. Dick's letters from West
Point, however, appeared to indicate clearly that he was not to
play. Therefore Greg Holmes wouldn't play.
At last came the fateful day, the Saturday after Thanksgiving.
Early the Brigade of Midshipmen was marched over to the trolley
line, where a long string of cars waited to receive them.
"We want an extra car to-night," one first classman called jovially
to the car inspector who was in charge of the transportation.
"We want that extra car to bring back the Army scalp in."
All the way to Baltimore and thence to Philadelphia, Dave Darrin
was unusually quiet. Dalzell, on the other hand, made noise enough
for both of them.
"Darry hasn't the sulks over anything, has be?" Wolgast anxiously
asked Dalzell.
"Don't you believe it," Dan retorted.
"But he's so abominably quiet."
"Saving all his breath to use on the field."
"Are you sure Darry is in form?" persisted Wolgast.
"Yes. Wait and see."
"I'll have to," sighed Wolgast, with another sidelong glance at
Darrin's emotionless face.
The Navy team and subs. arrived at dressing quarters nearly an
hour before it would be necessary to tog.
As the West Point men were on hand, also, Dave stepped outside.
Almost the first man he met was a tall, slim, soldierly looking
fellow in the cadet gray.
"Aren't you Fields?" asked Dave, holding out his hand.
"Yes," replied the cadet, giving his own hand.
"And you're Darrin---one of the few men we're afraid of."
"Does Prescott play to-day?" Dave asked eagerly.
The West Pointer's brow clouded.
"No," he replied. "Mr. Prescott isn't a subject for conversation
at the Military Academy. Mr. Prescott is in Coventry."
"Sad mistake," muttered Darrin.
"Eh?"
"A sad mistake. You men have made a bad bungle; I know it."
"It is a matter of internal discipline in the corps," replied
the West Point cadet, speaking much more coldly.
"Yes, I know it," Dave replied quickly, "and I beg your pardon
for having seemed to criticise the action of the Corps of Cadets.
However, anything that unpleasantly affects Dick Prescott is
a sore subject with me. Prescott is one of the best friends I
have in the world."
"Why, I've heard something about that," replied Fields in a less
constrained tone. "You and Mr. Prescott are old school cronies."
"Of the closest kind," Dave nodded. "That's why I feel certain
that Dick Prescott never did, and never could do, anything dishonorable.
You'll surely find it out before long, and then the Corps will make
full amends."
"I fear not," replied Cadet Fields. "Mr. Prescott had every
opportunity given him to clear himself, and failed to do so to
the satisfaction of the Corps. Therefore he'll never graduate
from the Military Academy. It wouldn't do him any good to try.
He'd only be ostracized in the Army if he had the cheek to stay
in the Corps."
"Let's not talk about that part of it any more," begged Dave.
"But you'll miss Prescott from your fighting line to-day."
"That's very likely," assented the West Point man. "I'm glad we
haven't Mr. Prescott here, but we'd be heartily glad if we had
some one else as good on the football field."
"And you haven't Holmes, either?" sighed Dave.
"That isn't any one's fault but Holmesy's," frowned Cadet Fields.
"We wanted Holmesy to play, and we gave him every chance, but-----"
"But he wouldn't," finished Dave. "No more would I play on the
Navy team if the fellows had done anything unjust to Dalzell."
"Do you feel that you're going to have an easy walk-over with us
to-day?" demanded Cadet Fields cheerily.
"No; but we're prepared to fight. We'll get the game if it's
in any way possible," Darrin assured his questioner.
"Are the bonfires back in Annapolis all ready to be lighted to-night?"
inquired Fields smilingly.
"They must be."
"What a lot of unnecessary labor," laughed the West Point man.
"Why?" challenged Dave.
"Because the Army is going to win again." That "again" caused Dave
Darrin to wince. "We win almost every time, you know," Fields
explained.
"Almost every time?" challenged Dan Dalzell, joining the pair.
"Are you sure of your statistics?"
"Oh, I have the statistics, of course," Fields answered. "That's
why I speak so confidently."
At this point three more West Point men approached.
"Hey, fellows," called Fields good-humoredly. "Do you know of
an impression that I find to prevail among the middies to-day?"
"What is that?" inquired one of the gray-clad cadets, as the newcomers
joined the group.
"Why, the middies seem to think that they're going to take the
Army's scalp to-day."
"Is that really your idea of the matter?" asked one of the gray-clad
cadets.
"So Mr. Fields has said," Dave answered.
"But what do you say?"
"About the most that I feel like saying," Darrin answered as quietly
as ever, "is that the Navy prefers to do its bragging afterwards."
"An excellent practice," nodded one of the cadets. "You've acquired
the habit through experience, I presume. It has saved your having
to swallow a lot of your words on many occasions."
All laughed good-naturedly. Though there was the most intense
rivalry between the two government military schools, yet all were
gentlemen, and the fun-making could not be permitted to go beyond
the limits of ordinary teasing.
"What's your line-up?" broke in Dan Dalzell.
"Haven't you fellows gotten hold of the cards yet?" asked one
of the West Point men. "Then take a look over mine."
Standing together Dave and Dan eagerly glanced down the printed
line-up of the Military Academy.
"I know a few of these names," ventured Darrin, "and they're the
names of good men. Several of the other names I don't know at
all. And you've left out the names of the two Army men that we're
most afraid of in a game of football."
"It seems queer to think of an Army line-up without Prescott and
Holmes," Dan declared musingly.
Over the faces of the cadets there crept a queer look, but none
of them spoke.
"So you've boycotted Prescott and Holmes?" pursued Dalzell.
"Yes," replied one of the cadets. "Or, rather, Prescott is in
Coventry, and Holmes prefers to stand by his friend in everything.
Holmes, being Prescott's roommate, doesn't have to keep away from
Mr. Prescott."
"Humph!" laughed Dan. "I think I can see Greg Holmes turning his
back upon Dick Prescott. Why, Greg wouldn't do that even if he
had to get out of the Army in consequence."
"We did the only thing we could with the Prescott fellow," spoke
up another cadet.
Dave Darrin's dark eyes flashed somewhat.
"Gentlemen," he begged quietly, "will you do me the very great
favor not to refer to Prescott slightingly as a 'fellow.' He's
one of the noblest youngsters I've ever known, and I'm his friend
through thick and thin. Of course, I don't expect you to know
it yet, but I feel positive that you've made a tremendous mistake
in sending to Coventry one of nature's noblemen."
"Hm!" muttered some of the cadets, and slight frowns were visible.
"And when you lose the game to-day," continued Dan Dalzell, "it
may be a comfort to you to know that you might possibly have won
it if you had had Prescott and Holmes in your battle front."
"Prescott isn't the only football player in the Army," returned
Cadet Fields. "Nor are he and Holmes the only pair of 'em."
"You'll lose without that pair, though," ventured Dave. "And
it must shake the confidence of your men, too, for you've come
here without your two best men."
"Of course, we have to manage our own affairs," interposed one
of the cadets.
"Gentlemen," spoke up Dave quickly, "of course, you have to manage
your own problems, and no one else is fitted to do so. If I've
gone too far in what might have seemed like criticism, then I
beg you to forget it. I don't want to be suspected of any disagreeable
intent. If I spoke almost bitterly it was because Prescott is
my very dear friend. I have another, and a real grievance---I
wanted to test myself out today against Dick Prescott, as any
two friends may contest to vanquish one another on the field of
sports."
"No one had any thought, I am sure, Mr. Darrin, of accusing you
of wishing to be disagreeable," spoke up Cadet Fields. "We believe
you to be a prince of good and true fellows; in fact, we accept
you at the full estimate of the Brigade of Midshipmen. Wade in
and beat us to-day, if you can---but you can't Prescott or no
Prescott."
"Better run inside and tog!" called Wolgast from a distance.
"You'll excuse us now, won't you?" asked Dave. "Come along, Danny
boy."
As the two midshipmen lifted their caps and hastened away, Fields
gazed after them speculatively:
"There goes the Navy's strength in to-day's game," he announced.
"I wonder if we have done Prescott any wrong?" said another cadet
slowly.
"That question has been settled by formal class action," replied
another. "It's a closed matter."
Then these West Point men strolled over to quarters to get into
togs. As they were to play subs. they did not need to be as
early at togging as the members of the team.
Out on Franklin Field thousands and thousands of Americans, from
the President of the United States down, waited impatiently for
the excitement of the day to begin.
On either side of the field some hundreds of seats were still
left vacant. The music of a band now floated out, proclaiming
that one set of seats was soon to be filled. Then in, through
a gate, marched the Military Academy band at the head of the Corps
of Cadets. Frantic cheers broke loose on the air, and there was
a great fluttering of the black and gray banners carried by the
Army's boosters in the audience. Gray and steel-like the superb
corps marched in across the field, and over to the seats assigned
to them.
Barely had the Army band ceased playing when another struck up in
the distance. It was now the turn of the fine Naval Academy band
to play the Brigade of Midshipmen on to the field. Again the air
vibrated with the intensity of the loyal cheers that greeted the
middies.
Over in quarters, after the middies of the team had togged, a
few anxious minutes of waiting followed. What was to be the fate
of the day?
"Darry," spoke Wolgast in a voice full of feeling, "you're not
woozy to-day, are you?"
"I don't believe I am," smiled Dave.
"Well, you know, old chap, you've been unaccountably stale---or
something---at times this season. You haven't been the real
Darry---always. You're feeling in really bully form today?"
"I'm pretty sure that I'm in good winning form," Dave replied.
"Will that be enough?"
Wolgast looked him over, then rejoined:
"Somehow, I think you're in pretty good form. I'll feel better,
very likely, after we've played for ten minutes. Darry, old fellow,
just don't forget how much the Navy depends upon you."
"Are you all right, Davy?" Dan Dalzell demanded in a more than
anxious undertone.
"I certainly am, Danny boy."
"But, you know-----"
"Yes; I know that, for a while, I showed signs of going fuzzy.
But I'm over that."
"Good!" chuckled Dan, as he caught the resolute flash in Darrin's
eyes. "I was fearfully afraid that you'd go bad simply because
you didn't have Prescott to go up against. For a good many days
that very fact seemed to prey upon your mind and make you indifferent."
"Danny boy, I am going to play my mightiest, just because Prescott
isn't with the Army!"
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean that I'm going to make the West Point fellows most abominably
sorry that they didn't have Dick Prescott on their eleven. And
you want to stand with me in that, Danny boy. Keep hammering
the Army to-day, and with every blow just think it's another blow
struck for Dick Prescott and Greg Holmes. Oh, we'll trim West
Point in their joint name!"