"That question has been settled by formal class action," replied another. "It's a closed matter."
Then these West Point men strolled over to quarters to get into togs. As they were to play subs. they did not need to be as early at togging as the members of the team.
Out on Franklin Field thousands and thousands of Americans, from the President of the United States down, waited impatiently for the excitement of the day to begin.
On either side of the field some hundreds of seats were still left vacant. The music of a band now floated out, proclaiming that one set of seats was soon to be filled. Then in, through a gate, marched the Military Academy band at the head of the Corps of Cadets. Frantic cheers broke loose on the air, and there was a great fluttering of the black and gray banners carried by the Army's boosters in the audience. Gray and steel-like the superb corps marched in across the field, and over to the seats assigned to them.
Barely had the Army band ceased playing when another struck up in the distance. It was now the turn of the fine Naval Academy band to play the Brigade of Midshipmen on to the field. Again the air vibrated with the intensity of the loyal cheers that greeted the middies.
Over in quarters, after the middies of the team had togged, a few anxious minutes of waiting followed. What was to be the fate of the day?
"Darry," spoke Wolgast in a voice full of feeling, "you're not woozy to-day, are you?"
"I don't believe I am," smiled Dave.
"Well, you know, old chap, you've been unaccountably stale—-or something—-at times this season. You haven't been the real Darry—-always. You're feeling in really bully form today?"
"I'm pretty sure that I'm in good winning form," Dave replied.
"Will that be enough?"