Darrin and Dalzell, of the Navy nine, had been trying to catch the eyes of the Army battery.
Now the four old chums raced together to a point midway between pitcher's box and home plate. There they met and clasped each others' hands.
"The same old pair, I know!" cried Dave Darrin heartily.
"And we think as much of you two as ever, even if you are in the poor old Army," grinned Dan. "We've come all the way up from Crabtown to teach you how to play ball. The knowledge will probably prove useful to you some day."
"Why, Dick," protested Holmes in mock astonishment, "these cabin boys seem to think they can really play ball!"
"And all I'm afraid of is that they can," laughed Dick.
"Can't we, though—-just!" mocked Dan, dancing a brief little step. "Wait until you take a stick to our work, and then see where you'll live!"
"Cut it, Danny, little lion-fighter, cut it!" warned Dave Darrin, with quiet good nature. "You know what they tell us all the time, down at Crabtown—-that 'brag never scuttled a fighting ship yet.'
"Dave, you don't expect Danny to believe that, do you?" asked Greg, grinning hard. "Danny never went into anything that he didn't try to win by scaring the other side cold. If our instructors here know what they're talking about, hot air isn't necessarily fatal to the enemy."
"I can tell you one thing, anyway," chipped in Dan, while the other three grinned indulgently at him.