om another table. "I have word from outside,
by the way."

"What word?"

"Well, the Hanniston fellows have brought over some money with which to
back up the howls they're making for their team. They're offering odds of
ten to six that Hanniston wins."

"They stand to lose a lot of money," grinned Hepson.

"But here's the funny part of it," continued Waite. "You know, when the
townspeople in Annapolis think they have a really good thing on us, they
cover the money of visitors in any wagers on the games."

"Then here's hoping that the Annapolis townspeople win a lot to-day,"
laughed Midshipman Hepson.

"Yes, but," returned Waite, "what I hear from town is that the Annapolis
townspeople have been driven to cover; that they aren't taking up the
offers of the visiting Hanniston boys."

"Too bad!" sighed Dave Darrin. "And Annapolis needs the money so
badly, too."

"Are we going to win?" asked Waite bluntly.

"Too early to tell you," replied Hepson coolly. "Ask me at supper
to-night. But the townies won't wager any money on us this year, eh?"

"The Annapolis people have put up some, but not much," replied Waite.

"We're going to win, just the same," announced Dan Dalzell.

"Sure?" questioned several voices.

"Oh, yes! It's all settled now," laughed Midshipman Waite. "I've been
waiting for Danny boy to tell us. Now, we know--we've heard from the
hot-air meter."

There was a laugh in which Dan didn't join readily, though his face
reddened considerably. Midshipman Dalzell was one of those who always
believed that the Navy must win, just because it was the Navy. Some of
the other midshipmen didn't go quite as far as that in their confidence.

"Better not call Danny boy names," advised Dave Darrin gravely. "He
might be sulking at just the time when we need him this afternoon."

"That would be unmilitary," retorted Mr. Waite.

"Oh, no," said Dave lightly. "Even as good a soldier as Achilles sulked
in his tent, you know."

"Achilles? What class was he in, then?" demanded Waite. "I don't remember
the name."

"He was in a class of his own, at the siege of Troy," volunteered Farley.

"Troy, N.Y.?" inquired Waite.

"If you keep on, Waite," muttered Farley, "someone will have to give you
an ancient history book at Christmas. You don't seem well posted on
Greek tales."

"Don't have to be, thank goodness," returned Waite, helping himself to
another piece of beef. "Greek isn't on the list here."

There was abund