"Oh, I forgot," exclaimed the other. "You don't like Darry any too well."
"I've nothing against him that would make me want to see him in bad form," grumbled Jetson. "I'm a Navy man and I don't want to see any but Navy victories."
The toss had just been made, the visitors winning the kick-off. At a sign from a Navy officer in the field the leader silenced his band and a hush fell over the gridiron and the seats of the onlookers.
CHAPTER XI
THE BAND COULDN'T MAKE ITSELF HEARD
Within five minutes the Hanniston players had established the fact that they were not only bulky, but quick and brainy. In fact, though the Navy promptly blocked the ball and got it, the middies were unable to make headway against the college men. Then Hanniston took the ball, fighting slowly but steadily toward the Navy goal line.
"I don't see Darrin making any wonderful plays," thought Jetson to himself. He was gloomy over seeing the Navy outplayed, but secretly glad that the spectators had as yet found no occasion to shout themselves hoarse over Midshipman Dave's work.
Outside of the brigade the other spectators in the Navy seats felt themselves tinder a cloud of increasing gloom.
"From all the talk I had expected more of Mr. Darrin," remarked an officer's wife-to her husband.
"Darrin has a fearful Hanniston line against him," replied the officer. "Captain Hepson realizes that, too, and he isn't pushing Darrin as hard as you might wish to see."