He made one out of three.
"No matter, Danny Grin," cried Page solacingly, "we love you for other things that you can do better on the field." Farley made two out of three.

Page, though a rattling good man over on the right flank, missed all three kicks.
"I'm a dub at kicking," he growled, retiring in much disgust with himself.
Other midshipmen had their try, with varying results.
"Rustlers, forward!" shouted Lieutenant-Commander Parker.
Eleven young fellows who had been waiting with more or less patience now threw aside their blankets or robes and came running across the field, their eyes dancing with keen delight.
"Mr.Wolgast, let the Rustlers start the ball---and take it away from 'em in snappy fashion!" admonished coach.
The game started.

In the second team at Annapolis there were some unusually good players---half a dozen, at least, who were destined to win a good deal of praise as subs.

that year.
Tr-r-r-r-ill! sounded the whistle, and the ball was in motion.
Yet, try as he did, the captain of the Rustlers made a side kick, driving the ball not far out of Dave Darrin's way.

It was coming, now, in Dan's path, but Dalzell muttered in a barely audible undertone: "You, Davy!" So Darrin, playing left end on the Navy team, darted in and caught the ball.