In a twinkling Prescott had sped, on, now was he caught and downed until he had the ball within twelve yards of the Navy's goal line.

Right off the Army cheer-master was on the job. The corps yell was raised with Prescott's name and Holmes's.

Brayton looked flushed and happy. He hoped yet to show these over-confident middies something.

Again the line-up was made for the snapback. The midshipmen players were now justifiably nervous, though they gave no sign of the fact.

Again the signal was given. Holmes received the ball and started.

The whole Army line veered to the left. The Navy moved to ma.s.s in support of Darrin and Dalzell.

Yet, just as the Navy men thought they could stop Greg, it turned out that Prescott carried the pigskin.

Nor did Cadet Prescott lose any time at all in trying to buck the line.

Ere the attention of the Navy had been drawn away from Holmes, Prescott was off on a slanting line around the Navy's right end.

Even Dave Darrin was properly fooled this time. d.i.c.k had only to shake off a halfback and the fullback and he was over the goal line, holding down the ball.

Never before had Franklin Field heard a greater din than now arose.

The Army Band was now playing furiously, yet the musicians barely heard themselves. The black, gold and gray pennants of the Army were waving frantically over half the field. The noise of cheering must have been heard a mile away.

From the cadets themselves came some Army yell for which the cheer-master had signaled, but no one heard what it was.

The noise continued until the line-up had been effected for the kick for goal.

Brayton, flushed with delight, chose to make the kick himself.

The pigskin soared, describing a beautiful curve. Between the goal posts it went, dropping back of the line.

Gloom had fallen over the middies, who realized that but three minutes time was left.

Swiftly as could be, the line-up was made for the kick-off. It was the Army's turn to start the ball, the Navy's to come back with it, if possible, into Army territory.

The Navy soon succeeded in getting the pigskin a trifle over the middle line. But the time was too short in which to do anything decisive. The Army was strictly on the defensive, taking no chances.

Time was called.

The Army had won, eight to five!

When it was all over the middies cheered the victors as l.u.s.tily as anyone, though sore hearts beat under the blue uniforms of Annapolis.

West Points cadets, on the other hand, were wild with joy.

Again and again they sent up the rousing corps yell for Prescott and Holmes, with Brayton's name added.

Turnback Haynes, finding no one to listen to him now, in anything he might have to say against Prescott, turned to stare at the heaving lines of gray.

To himself, Haynes muttered curiously:

"Humph!"

That one word did not, however, do justice to Haynes's frame of mind.

He was wild with jealousy and hatred, but dared not show it.

That fellow Prescott will have his head fearfully swelled and be more unbearable than ever! growled Haynes to himself. Confound him, he has no business at all in the Army! Why should he be?

Then, after a pause, a cunning look crept slowly into the eyes of the turnback, as he throbbed under his breath:

If I can have anything to do with it, he wont be much longer in the Army!

For just a moment, ere the teams left the field, the old Gridley chums had a chance to rush over to each other.

"I was afraid of you, d.i.c.k," Dave confessed. "Not more than I was of you, Dave, laughed Prescott."

"Did you find the Army such easy stuff to use as a doormat, Dan?"

queried Greg dryly.

"Oh, it--it--it was the fault of the new rules," retorted Midshipman Dalzell, making a wry face. "You know, Greg, you never could play much football. But the new rules favor the m.u.f.f style of playing."

Only a few more words could the quartette exchange. There was time, however, for a few minutes of talk before the West Pointers were obliged to leave for their train.

Greg, sighed d.i.c.k, if we only had Dave and Dan playing on the same team with us, such a game would be great!

"Oh, well," murmured Greg, "whether Annapolis or West Point lugged off the actual score, the service won, anyway. For the Army and Navy are inseparable units of the service."

It was a very orderly and dignified lot of cadets who filed aboard the cadet section of the train to leave for home. Once the train was well on its way out of Philadelphia, however, the pent-up enthusiasm of the happy sons of the Army broke loose, nor did the tactical officers with them make any effort to restrain the merry enthusiasm.

Some of the cadets went from car to car, in search of more excitement.

d.i.c.k Prescott soon became so tired of hero-worship that he slipped along through the rear car a few feet at a time until, at last, un.o.bserved, he managed to make his way out on to the rear platform.

Un.o.bserved, that is, by all save one. Turnback Haynes, who had been watching d.i.c.k with a sort of wild fascination, noted d.i.c.k's latest move.

The train, which had been traveling at high speed, now slowed down to some twenty-five miles an hour in order to pa.s.s over a river.

While the attention of all the rest was turned toward the front end of the car, Haynes, with lowered eyes and half-slinking manner, made his way toward the rear of the car.

Peering through the gla.s.s in the door, the turnback could make out Cadet Prescott standing outside. d.i.c.k's back was toward the door.

A diabolical light flashed in Haynes's eyes for a moment. He shook from head to foot, but, by a strong effort of will, he stayed his quivering.

One stealthy look over his shoulder Haynes took, then suddenly opened the door, stepping outside.

Cadet Prescott half turned. There was no time to do more, when he felt himself seized in a strong clutch.

There was hardly any struggle. It all seemed to be over in a second or so. Cadet Prescott plunged headlong through the darkness of the night into the dark river below!

CHAPTER XVI