No, no, Danny. The company of the fair is not for you.
Keep to things you understand better---such as football."
Dan Dalzell's eyes shot fire. He was certain, now, that his chum
was poking fun at him, and this, in his present temper, Dan could
not quite endure.
"So, since we've dropped the subject of girls," Dave continued
placidly, "what do you think are our real chances for the balance
of this season?"
"They'd be a lot improved," grunted Dan, "if you'd get the grip
on yourself that you had at the beginning of the season."
"I know I'm not playing in as good form as I had hoped to," Dave
nodded. "The worst of it is, I can't find out the reason."
"A lot of the fellows think you've lost interest since you found
that you won't have the great Prescott to play against in the
Army-Navy game," Dan hinted.
"Yes; I know. I've heard that suspicion hinted at."
"Isn't it true?" challenged Dalzell.
"To the best of my knowledge and belief, it isn't. Why, Danny,
it would be absurd to think that I couldn't play right now, just
because Dick isn't to be against us on Franklin Field."
"I know it would sound absurd," Dan replied. "But let us put
it another way, Dave. All along you've been working yourself
up into better form, because you knew that, otherwise, it was
very doubtful whether the Navy could beat the Army on the gridiron.
So you had worked yourself up to where you played a better game
than ever Dick Prescott thought of doing.
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