"What sort of a student told you we didn't want it?" asked Dick, excitedly. "A tall lad, rather stout, and with quite a good color--you know--sort of beefy." "Porter!" whispered Dick, involuntarily, and several heard him. "The special has been sent back, we can't get a train in several hours, and we're due at Mooretown at two o'clock," spoke the manager. "They'll claim the game by forfeit if we don't show up, and then----" "Good-bye to our chances for the championship," put in Beeby gloomily. "There's been treachery here," murmured Dick, as he gazed at the blank faces of his companions. "Treachery! This is what Sam Porter meant when he said I'd be sorry." CHAPTER XXV A DESPERATE RACE For a few moments the surprise of the cadets was such that they could think of nothing to do. It seemed almost impossible that their plans should be defeated by such a simple means, yet such was the case. A look down the empty tracks showed not a sign of their special train, and further appeals to the agent only confirmed what he had first said. "It's no use, boys," he declared. "That special has been sent back and it will take a long time to get it again, even if I could. The train dispatcher made a certain schedule for it, and once that is busted it's hard to get it in shape again." "Isn't there a regular train they can take?" asked Mr. Hamilton. "Not for three hours." "And that will be too late," said Paul dismally. "Whew!" whistled George Hall. "This is tough! Let's wire Mooretown and tell them what happened. They'll call the game off I'm sure, and not make it a forfeit for us." "What good would it do if they did?" asked Jim Watkins. "There are only two more games for us to play in the championship series. This one with Mooretown and the one next Saturday with Blue Hill. This is our only chance, and if we can't take it we won't get another one at Mooretown, as they break training to-day, after this contest. No boys, it's all up with Kentfield's chance at the trophy, I reckon." There was silence for a moment, but the cadets were doing some hard thinking. "That cad Porter!" exclaimed Innis Beeby. "What could have induced him to play such a contemptible trick?" "I suppose because I wouldn't promise to let him go in for the full game to-day," replied Dick reluctantly. "Are you sure it was Porter?" inquired Paul. "He's about the only one who is capable of such a thing as this," said Innis, looking at Weston. "I'm going to make sure," spoke Dick, and he inquired particularly of the agent as to the appearance of the cadet who had given the false information about there being no need of the special train. The detailed description left no room for doubt. It was Porter. "And, now I come to think of it, the young man laughed as he was going away, after he heard me give the engineer of the special the orders that he wouldn't be needed," said the station agent. "He laughed; eh?" repeated Dick.