e the genial-faced coach.

"Sit down!" Coach Brock invited, motioning to chairs. And when the two
wondering visitors were seated, he came straight to the point with: "I
understand you fellows know Speed Bartlett very well?"

Phil and Milt exchanged glances.

"Well ... er ... yes, sir ... we ...!"

"We're _pretty_ good friends," temporized Milt. "Why--what's ... er
... happened?... Is Speed in trouble?"

Coach Brock smiled, amusedly. "Yes, as a matter of fact, he is. Not
necessarily serious trouble," he hastened to assure as Phil and Milt
looked their concern, "but I want to guard against it getting any
worse."

"Good grief!" exclaimed Milt, anxiously. "What's Speed done?"

"We haven't been out with him for some time," volunteered Phil, "so we
wouldn't know anything."

"It's nothing like that," declared the Coach. "Speed's simply going to
pieces over thoughts of the Hamilton game. I've got to break him of
this or he's going to have himself in such a mental stew by game-time
that he'll be next to useless."

"Oh--then you want us to brighten him up?" divined Phil.

Coach Brock shook his head. "No, there's only one thing that can have
any effect upon Speed," he said, decisively. "He's got to be told that
he can't play on Saturday. This will bitterly disappoint him, of
course, but it will relieve him at the same time. But the fly in the
ointment is how to make Speed believe that he's really not going to
play. He knows very well that I wouldn't remove the star of the team
without definite reason. Obviously, then, the only way we can put one
over on Speed is to catch him breaking one of the strict rules I've
laid down for members of the squad."

"Now I 'get' you," cried Phil, eagerly. "You want us to help get Speed
in bad!"

"That's precisely it," agreed the coach. "And here's how you can do
it. Take him over to Ashby in your car to catch the early evening
show. There's a Knute Rockne two-reeler showing at the picture house
that I'll recommend be seen. As you fellows know, my orders are for
every man on the squad to be in his room and in bed by ten o'clock.
Ashby is a good twenty miles from here and, after stalling for time you
start back to Medford with just time enough left to get Speed to his
dorm within the ten o'clock law. Unfortunately, however, your car
breaks down and you are delayed getting back until after midnight."

"Quite a thrilling plot," agreed Milt.

"It calls for some re