From there two sections of a special train conveyed the Annapolis host to Philadelphia.
Franklin Field was reached, and one of the most brilliant athletic and social events of the year was on.
We shall not attempt to follow the course of the game here.

The Navy eleven hurled itself into the fray with undying heroism, but the Army won the great game.

It is all told in the third volume of "THE WEST POINT SERIES," entitled "DICK PRESSCOTT'S THIRD YEAR AT WEST POINT." In that volume, too, is described the meeting of the old-time High School chums, their first meeting since the old-time days back in the tome town of Gridley.
The game was over at last.

The Navy was crestfallen, though not a sign of sorrow or humiliation showed in the jaunty step of the men of the brigade as they marched back to the railway station and took the train for the first stage of the journey home--the run between Philadelphia and Baltimore.
On the train Hepson hunted up Dave and Dan.
"You did your best, fellows, I know, that," murmured the defeated football captain.

"And you gave me, in advance, a fair estimate of that Army pair, Prescott and Holmes.