Dan Dalzell’s eyes shot fire.  He was certain, now, that his chum was poking fun at him, and this, in his present temper, Dan could not quite endure.

“So, since we’ve dropped the subject of girls,” Dave continued placidly, “what do you think are our real chances for the balance of this season?”

“They’d be a lot improved,” grunted Dan, “if you’d get the grip on yourself that you had at the beginning of the season.”

“I know I’m not playing in as good form as I had hoped to,” Dave nodded.  “The worst of it is, I can’t find out the reason.”

“A lot of the fellows think you’ve lost interest since you found that you won’t have the great Prescott to play against in the Army-Navy game,” Dan hinted.

“Yes; I know.  I’ve heard that suspicion hinted at.”

“Isn’t it true?” challenged Dalzell.

“To the best of my knowledge and belief, it isn’t.  Why, Danny, it would be absurd to think that I couldn’t play right now, just because Dick isn’t to be against us on Franklin Field.”

“I know it would sound absurd,” Dan replied.  “But let us put it another way, Dave.  All along you’ve been working yourself up into better form, because you knew that, otherwise, it was very doubtful whether the Navy could beat the Army on the gridiron.  So you had worked yourself up to where you played a better game than ever Dick Prescott thought of doing.  Then you hear that poor Dick is in Coventry, and therefore not on the team.  You haven’t got the great Army man to beat, and, just for that reason, you slack up on your efforts.”

“I am not slacking up,” retorted Dave with some spirit.  “I am doing the best that is in me, though I admit I appear to have gone stale.”

“And so something will happen,” predicted Dan.

“What will that be?”

“Between now and the game with the Army, Prescott’s comrades will find what boobs they’ve been, and they’ll lift the Coventry.  Prescott and Holmes will get into the Army team at the last moment, and the fellows from West Point will ride rough-shod over the Navy, just as they did last year.”

“Do you really think that will happen?” demanded Darrin eagerly.  “Do you really believe that dear old Dick will get out of that Coventry and back on the Army eleven?”

“Well,” returned Midshipman Dalzell soberly, “I’ll venture a prediction.  If you don’t get a brace on your playing soon, then it’ll be regular Navy luck for Prescott to come to Philadelphia and put on his togs.  Then the soldiers will drag us down the field to the tune of 46 to 2.”

“I’d sooner he killed on the field than see that happen!” cried Midshipman Dave, his eyes flashing.

“Then don’t let it happen!  You’re the only star on our team, Dave, that isn’t up to the mark.  If we lose to the Army, this year, Prescott or no Prescott, it will be your fault, Dave Darrin.  You’re not one of our weak spots, really but you’re not as strong as you ought to be and can be if you’ll only brace.”