Dave Darrin smiled faintly as he hurried away from the field.
All his personal interest in football had vanished. He had played
his last game of football and was glad that the Navy had won;
that was about all.
Yet he was not listless---far from it. On the contrary Dave fairly
ran to dressing quarters, hustled under a shower and then began
to towel and dress.
For out in the audience, well he knew, had sat Belle Meade and
her mother.
"Darry, you're a wonder!" cried Wolgast. "Every time to-day we
called upon you you were ready with the push."
But Dave, rushing through his dressing, barely heard this and
other praise that was showered on him.
"I'll get along before assembly time, Davy," whispered Dan Dalzell.
"Come along now," Dave called back.
"Oh, no! I know that you and Belle want some time to yourselves,"
murmured Dalzell wisely. "I'll get along at the proper time."
Dave didn't delay to argue. He stepped briskly outside, then
into the field, his eyes roving over the thousands of spectators
who still lingered. At last a waving little white morsel of a
handkerchief rewarded Darrin's search.
"Oh, you did just splendidly to-day," was Belle's enthusiastic
greeting, as Dave stepped up to the young lady and her mother.
"I've heard lots of men say that it was all Darrin's victory."
"Yes; you're the hero of Franklin Field, this year," smiled Mrs.
Meade.
"Laura Bentley and her mother didn't come over?" Dave inquired
presently.
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