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It was the evident purpose of the Corps of Cadets, for fancied wrongs, to ostracize Dick Prescott until he found himself forced to resign from the United States Military Academy. November came in. Stanford came. Coach talked to Dave Darrin steadily for ten minutes before the Navy eleven trotted out on to the field.
"Yes; Doe thinks I ought to look after this wrist -that it wouldn't stand extraordinary strain during the next few days. But, Dave, old fellow, watch out! Keep your eye on the sidewalks near your home. Don't prowl in lonely places after dark. Act as if you were made of glass until you get on the field at the Chichester game." Darrin glanced shrewdly at his friend, then nodded. "I'm on, Dick!
Then wheeling suddenly: "How did Darrin come to get cut in that fashion, anyway! Mr. Jetson, do you know anything about it?" "What do you mean, sir?" demanded Jetson, bridling. "Do you insinuate that I tried to put a scar on Mr. Darrin's face?" "I asked you what you knew about the accident if it were an accident?" Hepson pursued coldly. "Your 'if, sir, is insulting!"
"The judges give you four points less than Darrin, and seven less than Prescott. You've had a fair show, Mr. Ripley." "I haven't. I'm better than either of them!" bawled Fred, hoarsely, for the cheering was still on and he had to make himself heard. "No use, Ripley," spoke up a member of the Athletics Committee.
"I'd sooner die than give up easily!" groaned the young midshipman, and he seemed about to have his wish. By the strongest effort of the will that he could make, Darrin steadied himself and forced his eyes once more open. Drifting toward him, two feet above his head, was what looked like another shadow. It came closer. At the first thought Darrin was inclined not to believe his senses.
Strangely enough, the first effect of this news from West Point was to send the Navy eleven somewhat "to the bad." That is to say, Dave Darrin, despite his best endeavors, seemed to go stale from the first hour when he knew that he was not to meet Dick Prescott on the gridiron. "Mr. Darrin, what ails you?" demanded coach kindly, at the end of the second practice game after that.
"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."
As our three bunkies prepared for bed that night Prescott remarked: "Tomorrow, Greg, we'll see the folks from home! I hope you'll do nothing, though, to make Dave Darrin dislike you." "I won't," promised Greg solemnly. Then: "Oh, great -Jove! I've " "Well?" demanded Dick. "What have you done? "I've asked another femme to accept my drag to-morrow night! "Miss Griffin?" "Yes!"
"No, no, no!" protested Tony, shrilly and cunningly. "Mr. Brimmer, he no tell me he no hire me " "Be silent, fellow!" commanded Dave Darrin hotly. "You've told the truth once. Don't spoil it with a dozen lies! Brimmer, you dastard, you disgrace to the noble old uniform " By a quick, forceful twist Brimmer had freed himself from Dave's frantic clutch. It availed the plotter but little, however.
"Hold on there, a minute," advised Dave, as his chum stood on the little ledge at the top of the spire. "And don't be foolish enough to look down into the street." Dave darted inside, picking up the lighter of the ropes. Going out on the balcony again Darrin tossed one end of the rope to Dick, who made it fast around the flagpole. Using the rope, Dave went easily up and stood beside Prescott.
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