In a wriggle that looked flash-like to the breathless beholders, Darrin was through.

He had taken desperate chances, when he went down, of being beset, end forced to hold the pigskin where he had fallen.
But now Dave was up and running, and the player who had sought to block him was far in the rear.
The whole Navy force hurled itself around this point, battering down the startled opposition.

With fast-coming breath Dave's comrades pushed him along breaking down all opposition--until Dave, with a sudden, wild dash, was over the line for a touchdown.
"Darry did it! Darry did it!" For fifteen seconds the uproar was deafening.

The college players looked stunned, while their howlers, over on the visitors' seats, seemed to shrink within their coats.
"Seven to six!" "Make it eight!" Dave Darrin had borne the brunt of battle.

Now his eyes were flashing with excitement.
"I'd like you to try the kick for goal, Darry, but I don't know," called Hepson in his ear.