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Hancock, H. Irving (Harrie Irving), 1868-1922

"Dick Prescotts's Fourth Year at West Point Ready to Drop the Gray for Shoulder Straps"


"I'm much obliged to you all," Greg insisted gently, "but I told
you I wasn't going to try for the nine. I never played a game
without Prescott, and I know I'd be a hoodoo if I did."
Though a great lot of pressure was brought to bear upon him, Holmes
still held out. It was his privilege to refuse to play, if he so
chose. Above all, the coaches, who were Army officers, could not
urge him.
"That man Holmes is just the fellow we need to round out the team,"
complained one of the players to Durville.
"Yes," sighed the captain of the Army nine; "and Holmesy tells
me that he's a tyro to Mr. Prescott."
"Then Mr. Prescott must be a wonder on the diamond," grunted the
other cadet.
"I hear that he is," assented Durville. "By the way, you remember
Darrin and Dalzell, who helped the Navy team to wipe the field up
with us last year?"
"I reckon I do."
"Well, it seems that Prescott, Holmes, Darrin and Dalzell were
all members of the athletic squad in the same High School before
they entered the service."
"Darrin and Dalzell are going to make it possible for the Navy to
wipe us up again this year, too," continued the other cadet
plaintively.
"I don't believe they would, if we could put in Mr. Prescott and
Holmesy for this year."
"But we can't, Durry."
"No; I know it."
"So what's the use of talking." Nevertheless, there was a lot
of talking, and dozens waylaid Greg and tried to induce him to
reconsider.


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