"Well, you know, old chap, you've been unaccountably stale---or
something---at times this season. You haven't been the real
Darry---always. You're feeling in really bully form today?"
"I'm pretty sure that I'm in good winning form," Dave replied.
"Will that be enough?"
Wolgast looked him over, then rejoined:
"Somehow, I think you're in pretty good form. I'll feel better,
very likely, after we've played for ten minutes. Darry, old fellow,
just don't forget how much the Navy depends upon you."
"Are you all right, Davy?" Dan Dalzell demanded in a more than
anxious undertone.
"I certainly am, Danny boy."
"But, you know-----"
"Yes; I know that, for a while, I showed signs of going fuzzy.
But I'm over that."
"Good!" chuckled Dan, as he caught the resolute flash in Darrin's
eyes. "I was fearfully afraid that you'd go bad simply because
you didn't have Prescott to go up against. For a good many days
that very fact seemed to prey upon your mind and make you indifferent."
"Danny boy, I am going to play my mightiest, just because Prescott
isn't with the Army!"
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean that I'm going to make the West Point fellows most abominably
sorry that they didn't have Dick Prescott on their eleven. And
you want to stand with me in that, Danny boy. Keep hammering
the Army to-day, and with every blow just think it's another blow
struck for Dick Prescott and Greg Holmes.
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