The football season came on with a rush at last. The Army won some of its games, from minor teams, but none from the bigger college elevens.
Then came the fateful Saturday when the corps went over to
Philadelphia. Dick and Greg were the only two members of the
corps, not under severe discipline, who remained behind at the
Military Academy.
Late that afternoon Greg, with a long face, brought in the football news from Franklin Field.
"The Navy has wiped us up, ten to two," grumbled Holmes.
"I'm heartily sorry," cried Dick, and he spoke the truth.
"Well, it's our class's fault," growled Greg. "The Army can thank our class."
"We might not have been able to save the game," argued Prescott.
"We could have rattled Dave and Dan a lot," retorted Greg. "My own belief is we could have saved the day."
"You might have played, Greg. I wouldn't have resented it."
"No; but I'd have felt a fine contempt for myself," retorted Cadet Holmes scornfully. "Besides, Dick, though I have done some fairly good things in football, I don't believe I'd be worth a kick without you. It was playing with you that made me shine, always."