"Yes; cut it. We can stand it better after the game," laughed Dick.
"Get your men out in five minutes more, Durville," called Lieutenant Lawrence, looking in. "The Navy fellows have been on the field ten minutes already. You want to limber up your men a bit before game is called."
Already the sound had reached dressing quarters of the visiting fans cheering for the Navy.
In three minutes more the cheering ascended with four times as much volume, for now Durville marched the picked Army nine on to the field, and the fans on the stands caught sight of these trim young soldiers.
"I've got a hunch you'll do it for us to-day," whispered Beckwith in Prescott's ear.
"Look out. A little hunch is a dangerous thing," retorted Dick, with a grim smile.
CHAPTER XVIII
DAN DALZELL'S CRABTOWN GRIN
Six minutes later, the umpire called the captains to the home plate for the toss.
"There they are—-the same old chums!" cried Dick, hitting Greg a nudge.