"Mr. Wolgast, let the Rustlers start the ball---and take it
away from 'em in snappy fashion!" admonished coach.
The game started. In the second team at Annapolis there were
some unusually good players---half a dozen, at least, who were
destined to win a good deal of praise as subs. that year.
Tr-r-r-r-ill! sounded the whistle, and the ball was in motion.
Yet, try as he did, the captain of the Rustlers made a side kick,
driving the ball not far out of Dave Darrin's way. It was coming,
now, in Dan's path, but Dalzell muttered in a barely audible undertone:
"You, Davy!"
So Darrin, playing left end on the Navy team, darted in and caught
the ball. He did not even glance sideways to learn where Dan
was. He knew that Dalzell would be either at his back or right
elbow as occasion demanded.
"Take it away from Darry!" called Pierson, captain of the Rustlers.
"Block him!"
The scores of spectators lining the sides of the field were watching
with keenest interest.
It was rumored that Dave and Dan had some new trick play hidden up
their sleeves.
Yet, with two men squarely in the path of Darrin it seemed incredible
that he could get by, for the Rustlers had bunched their interference
skillfully at this point.
"Darry will have to stop!" yelled a score of voices at once, as
Dave bounded at his waiting opponents.
"Yah, yah, yah!"
"Wow!"
"Whoop!"
The spectators had been treated to a sight that they never forgot.
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