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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"

"
Just as the fortunes of war would have it, Dan Dalzell again stood
by the plate at the beginning of the eighth.
"Wipe off that smile, Danny boy," called Darrin softly.
But Dan only shook his head with a deepening grin which seemed
to declare that he found the Navy situation all to the good.
In fact, Dalzell felt such a friendly contempt for poor old Dick's
form by this time, that he cheerily offered at Dick's first.
Crack! That ball arched up for right field, and Dan, hurling
his bat, started to make tracks and time. Beckwith, however,
was out in right field, and knew what was expected of him. He
ran in under that dropping ball, held out his hands and gathered
it in.
Dick smiled quietly, almost imperceptibly, while Dan strolled
mournfully back to the bench. Then Prescott turned, bent on
annihilating his good old friend Darrin, if possible. In great
disgust, Dave struck out. The look on the Navy fan's faces could
be interpreted only as saying:
"Oh, well, we don't need runs, anyway!"
But when Hutchins struck out---one, two, three!---after as many
offers, Navy faces began to look more grave.
"Hold 'em down, Navy---hold 'em down!" rang the appeal from Navy
seats when the Army went to bat in the eighth.
Dick was first at bat now, with Greg on deck. As Prescott swung
the willow and eyed Darrin, there was "blood" in the Army pitcher's
eyes.


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