o some other position."

"Pooh! I'm not afraid," laughed Carter, turning to walk away.
"Darrin, no doubt, is good, but he can't do anything to Prescott."

Neither of the speakers was aware that Dave Darrin, midshipman,
United States Navy, was one of the oldest and dearest friends that
Dick Prescott had.

Few at West Point knew that Darrin and Prescott had ever met.

"Am I going over to Philadelphia to see the game?" muttered Haynes
to himself, as he strode away from the game. "I want to see Prescott
go up against the real star Darrin, and get his neck broken!"

Anstey was one of the few at West Point who knew anything about
the friendship between Prescott, Holmes, Darrin and Dalzell.

Dan Dalzell had also made the Annapolis eleven, playing right
tackle. That was bound to bring him into hard grip with Greg.

"Anstey, I hope there's time for you to make the acquaintance
of Dave and Dan," Dick said earnestly while the Virginian was
visiting Greg and himself. "Dave and Dan are two of the real
fellows, if there are any left in the world.

"They must be, old ramrod," replied the Virginian quietly, "if
they hold such place in your affections, and in old Holmesy's."

Great was the rejoicing, on the eventful morning, when the two
"Army specials" pulled out from the station down by the river's
edge.

The first section of the train pulled out ahead, carrying the
officers of the post, their families and closest friends.

On the second longer section traveled the corps of cadets---with
the exception of a few of the young men who, under discipline,
were not allowed to take this trip. With the cadets went the
tactical officers and the coaching force.

At Jersey City the first real stop was made. Then the journey
was resumed to Philadelphia.

Franklin Field was crowded with somewhere between thirty and
thirty-five thousand people when the corps of cadets, headed by
the band, marched on to the field and thence to the seats reserved
for the band and the corps.

The whole progress of the corps across the field was accompanied
by lusty cheering, by applause and by the mad waving of the gray,
black and gold Army pennants. Most of the spectators who carried
the Navy's blue and gold pennants so far forgot their partisanship
as to cheer and wave for the Army's young men.

Hardly was the corps of cadets seated when another loud strain
of joyous music was heard. The brigade of midshipmen, from Annapolis,
behind the Na