do against such big fellows as the visitors.

Just after that, however, Hepson passed the silent signal, and then the
midshipmen hurled themselves into the fray to test out all the endurance
that the Hanniston players might possess.

Many a college boy on the opposing line wondered where these smaller men
in the Navy togs had obtained all the fight that they now showed. The big
fellows didn't seem able to stand it long. The Navy had the ball, and now
slowly fought down toward the college goal. Onlookers in the Navy seats
began to stand up, to watch breathlessly, and be ever ready to cheer.

"Hurl little Darry in!" yelled someone hoarsely in a momentary lull in
the noise.

But Hepson, watching every chance with tigerish eyes, was yet
cool-headed, as a football general should be. Twice he used Darrin to
advance the ball, and each time Dave gained a few yards. The third time,
wearied by pounding his head against a human stone wall, Dave failed to
gain more than half a yard. Watchful Hepson sent the ball, after the next
snap-back, over to the Navy's right.

The time of the second half was slipping away, and it now looked as
though the middies might gradually have won by the steady, bull-dog
quality of their tactics.

Nearer and nearer to the college goal line the team of smaller men fought
the pigskin, until at last they had it within six yards of the Hanniston
fortress. But at this point the visitors stayed further progress long
enough to have the pigskin ovoid come to them by a block.

The situation was desperate. Hanniston could not get the ball away from
its present locality, and in dread the college captain sent the ball back
of his own line to a safety.

This counted two for Annapolis, but it also set the ball back twenty-five
yards from the college line.

"Block! block! block--if you can't fight the ball back to the Navy goal,"
was the word that Captain Hart, of the college team, sent along his own
line. "Don't be too reckless. Just fight to keep the Navy from scoring."

"Hepson! Hepson!" came, appealingly, from the seats, as the two elevens
lined up at the twenty-five-yard line.

"Darry! O Darry!"

Grim determination written on their faces, eleven middies awaited the
signal, then hurled themselves forward like tigers.

The ball came to Dave, who started with it. Dan Dalzell, watching his
chum with cat-like eyes, followed and made the best interference that he
had offered that day.

Five and a half