Then followed a discussion on ways and means. Bill thought he could get two or three of his team to help him utilize the signals, simply telling them that he had happened accidentally to learn them and that it would be no harm to use them for Wimbledon's advantage. So it was a hilarious group of plotters that, after putting Bill Sykes down at his home, rode back to Lenox. "Trust little Sandy!" gloated that young fellow, as he bade his pals good-night. "When he starts a thing, he finishes it." In the meantime, Garry and his team, blissfully unconscious of the danger threatening them and confident that they had spiked the enemy's guns by the change of signals, were working incessantly at practice. And work it was, for the old signals would keep constantly obtruding themselves into the new. For a few days there was endless confusion, but gradually the kinks were straightened out, and by the end of the week the new system was working fairly well. Still, there was much apprehension in Garry's mind as to what might happen in the heat of the actual game that was now only a short time away. Also, his rage at the rascals whose actions had made all this change necessary rose at times to a white heat. The day before the game with Wimbledon was to take place Garry was stopped on the street by a boy whose face seemed familiar, but whom he could not place at the moment. "You're Garry Grayson, aren't you?" the boy asked. "Yes," replied Garry. "And you--oh, I know now who you are! You're Joe Brench, quarterback of the Wimbledon team. I played against you last year. Friendly enemies?" he added, with a grin. "Yes," replied Joe, with an answering smile. "And I suppose we'll play against each other again to-morrow. It was that, in fact, I came over to see you about." "Is that so?" asked Garry guardedly. "What's up? Going to call the game off or anything?" "No, not that," replied Joe. "It was--it was--Oh, I hardly know how to begin. Look here, Grayson!" He braced and spoke decidedly. "I want Wimbledon to beat the life out of Lenox to-morrow. But I want it to be done fairly and squarely--on the level. I--" "Look out!" yelled Garry. Down the hill at the foot of which the boys were standing came plunging a runaway automobile. The boys had been so engrossed in their talk that they did not notice it until it was nearly upon them. Joe Brench was standing squarely in its path. Like a flash Garry grabbed him and pulled him partly out of the way. Not far enough, however, for the car struck Joe's legs and threw him violently to the ground. CHAPTER XXIII Almost a Tragedy The shock of the blow from the runaway car was so great that Joe Brench was rendered unconscious. If Garry had not acted as swiftly as he had, there was little doubt that the boy would have been instantly killed.