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Reaching that department, Dan halted his section. "Section all present, sir," reported Dan, saluting a strange officer, who, however, wore the insignia of a lieutenant-commander. "Your name, sir?" inquired the officer. "Dalzell, sir." "Let your section break ranks. Then you may all follow me, and keep your eyes open, for you will go through one or two dark places." "Aye, aye, sir.
The Navy line hit the Rustlers hard and tried to bump through. Dan Dalzell devoted every ounce of his strength and every turn of his energy to boosting Darrin through and Dave himself was not idle. There was an instant of sullen, hard resistance. Then, somehow, Dave was shot through the opposing line. Like a deer he sped, Dan hanging to his flanks.
The ball came in, and Dan gauged it fairly well. Yet he fanned for the third time. "Batsman out!" Dan hesitated an almost imperceptible instant at the plate. Swift as lightning he made a wry little mouth at Prescott. It nearly broke Dick up with laughter as Dalzell stalked moodily to the bench and Dave stepped forward.
"It's gone too far for talk, now," replied Dan Dalzell. "Wait until Darry has put a new head on this idiot." Jetson took his time about getting to his feet When he did rise he didn't assume his guard at once. "Well," asked Darrin coolly, but mockingly, "have you had all you can stand, or are you going to back up your wild, crazy statements?"
"And the game, to-morrow!" breathed Midshipman Dalzell fervently. The morrow's game was to be against the University of Pennsylvania eleven. The opposition team being an unusually good one that year, the Navy's gridiron pets were preparing to strain every nerve in the hope of victory. In that afternoon's practice Dave and Dan showed up better than ever.
"You'll feel something else," warned Dave snappily, "if you don't at once assure me that you know Belle too well to think that she'd make light of your misfortunes." "But sometimes girls tell one another some things " "Belle Meade doesn't," interrupted Dave so briskly that Dalzell, after a glance, agreed: "You're right there, David, little giant.
"I don't believe I know her." "I guess you don't," Dan replied. "She's new in Annapolis. Visiting her uncle and aunt, you know. And her mother's with her." "Are your intentions serious in this, Danny?" Darrin went on. "Blessed if I know," Dalzell answered candidly. "She's a mighty fine girl, is May Preston. I don't suppose I'll ever be lucky enough to win the regard of such a really fine girl."
Are you ready?" "Ready!" assented both. "Time!" Both men advanced warily. Quimby knew well enough that he could whip the plebe, but he didn't intend to let Dalzell get in any blows that could be guarded against. Both men danced about until Mr. Ferris broke in, rather impatiently: "Stop eating chocolates and mix it up!" "Like this, sir?" questioned Dan.
"They're all good football men," sighed Dick. "All men whose aid in the football squad is much needed." "Drayne is the stuck-up chap, who uses the broad 'a' in his speech, and carries his nose up at an angle of forty-five degrees," chuckled Dan Dalzell. "He's the fellow I mortally offended by nicknaming him 'Sewers, to mimic his name of 'Drayne."
While Monmouth threw himself from his horse, and, rallying the Foot-Guards, brought them on to another close and desperate attack, he was warmly seconded by Dalzell, who, putting himself at the head of a body of Lennox-Highlanders, rushed forward with their tremendous war-cry of Loch-sloy.
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