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Those of the spectators who boosted for the Army were now silent, straining their vision and holding their breath. It began to look, this year, as though the Navy could do with the Army as it pleased. Wolgast lined his men up for a fierce onslaught Darrin and Dalzell, panting, looked like a pair who would die in their tracks ere allowing the ball to go by them.
"And, one of these days, I may have the pleasure of congratulating you, as an officer, when you first come up over the side to start in with your real sea life." "I'm thinking, now, of our first taste of sea life," murmured Darrin, a dreamy light coming into his eyes.
Cantor's launch was the first to go in alongside. "Were you successful?" hailed the voice of the executive officer from the bridge. "Ensign Darrin was, sir," Cantor replied, through the megaphone. "Are all the missing Americans safe?" "Yes, sir," Cantor continued. "And all our own men?" "Two killed, sir, and four wounded, through what I believe to be disobedience of orders."
You get out a hundred feet or so to the right. And we'll move as fast as we can, now." The wisdom of this plan was soon apparent, for it was Dave Darrin who discovered the next footprint. He summoned Dick Prescott with a sharp hiss. "Yes; all right," nodded Dick, joining his comrade and gazing down at one of the narrow bootmarks. "But don't send a long signal again, Dave.
He'll soon have his eyes open there they come now." As if to back up the surgeon, Dave opened his eyes, staring curiously at the faces within his range of vision. "What's all this fuss about?" Dave asked quietly. "There isn't any fuss, Mr. Darrin," replied the surgeon. "You were stunned by the force of that scrimmage, and there's some blood on your face." "Let me wipe it off then, please, sir?"
Then the eager spectators saw something that was not on the programme. The chums of the old Gridley days had made each other out in the same moment. There was a rush. In mid-field Dick Prescott and Dave Darrin gripped hands as if they could never let go again. Across their outstretched arms Greg and Dan found each other in a right-hand clasp.
Lieutenant Trent looked at the sidewalk astounded, for, where he had stood hay the broken pieces of a cookstove that had been hurled from the roof two stories above. "That mass of iron fell right where I was standing," muttered Trent. "Darrin, I wondered why on earth you should jerk me back and lay me out in that unceremonious fashion.
"That's what I want to think about," declared young Prescott. "I want to go at the job the right way -the way that real newspapermen would use." A few moments later Dick Prescott guided the horse down a shaded lane. "Whoa!" he called, and got out. "What, now?" questioned Darrin, as his chum began to hitch the horse to a tree.
Dave, when the project was sprung on him, gave his hearty assent. "It won't do any harm to have a try at it, anyway, Dick," urged Darrin. "It'll wake us up a bit, too. Not that I've any real and abiding idea that we're going to catch Mr. Burglar." "If we're in earnest we're going to catch him," declared Prescott. "That's the old Gridley High School way, you know.
"That was a dirty trick you played me last night, Mr. Darrin!" cried the first classman angrily. "What?" gasped Dave, astonished, for this was not in line with the usual conversation of midshipmen. "You know well enough what I mean," cried Treadwell angrily. "You spiked my only chance to dance with Miss Meade." "You're wrong there," retorted Dave coldly and truthfully "I didn't."
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