"You fellows are well enough up to make the team."
"But we're nervous about our studies," rejoined Prescott.
"Nervous about your studies!" cried Brayton sharply. "Yet not
a whit anxious for the honor of the Army that you hope to serve
in all your lives. Now, you fellows know, as well as any of us,
that we don't much mind being walked over by a crack college eleven.
But we want to beat the Navy, year in and year out. Why, fellows,
this year the Navy has one of the best elevens in its history.
All the signs are that the middies are going to walk roughshod
over us. And yet you two fellows, whom we need, are sulking in
quarters, poring over books---nervous about your studies!"
Scorn rang in Brayton's heavy tones.
"If I really thought you needed me-----" began Dick.
"Of course, if you did actually need two duffers like-----" broke
in Cadet Holmes.
"Need you!" retorted Brayton. "I'm almost ashamed to be sitting
here with two such cold-blooded duffers. But do you know why
I'm here? Because Lieutenant Carney, our coach, told me to come
here and actually beg you to turn out---if I had to beg. Now,
am I going to be submitted to that humiliation by two fellows
I've always liked and considered my friends?"
"Is the football situation as bad as that?", asked Dick seriously.
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