"I'll do it!" suddenly cried Mr. Simpson. "I'll take a chance. Hop in boys, and I'll get you there on time if the gasolene holds out. We've got to pass through Mooretown to Denville. Hop in!" "Hurrah!" cried the now hopeful cadets, and they piled into the four big trucks. They had to stand up, and there was considerable crowding, but they did not mind this, and there was room for all. "Now for the game!" cried Dick as the ponderous machines started off, the station agent waving a farewell. "I guess this will put a spoke in Porter's wheel," murmured Beeby. "He'll feel sick to think that we got to the game after his mean trick." "We're not there yet," remarked Dick a bit dubiously, for he knew the eccentricities of autos. "We've got to make pretty good time, and there are several hills to climb." "Don't let them hills worry you," said Mr. Simpson. "I helped build these trucks, and I know what they can do. We'll take any hill you can give us, with a heavier load than this on. Only, of course, we haven't an awful lot of speed. But I'll push them to the limit. Turn on all you can!" he called back to the three men. "Sure!" they shouted in reply, and the motors hummed and throbbed under the strain. For the first few miles the roads were good, and speedy time was made, so that Dick ceased some of his worry lest they arrive too late. Then a sandy stretch was encountered, and the motors whined out a protest, but they kept on. "Think you can do it?" asked the captain of the man in charge. Dick and the team and substitutes, together with his father, were in the first machine. "Oh, we'll do it," was the reply, and Mr. Simpson's voice had a confidence he did not altogether feel. It was no small responsibility, for it was a desperate race against the fleeting minutes and hours. After the sand, came a good piece of highway, and then a stiff hill, but the trucks made it safely and at fair speed. "We'll do it!" announced Mr. Simpson after about two hours. "There's one long hill now after this one we're climbing and then we can coast down into Mooretown." "Good!" cried Dick, and he felt some of the strain of anxiety leaving him. A few minutes later, when the foremost auto had reached the crest of the rise, the driver of the truck containing Dick and the team remarked, as he pointed ahead: "There's Mooretown, but you can't see the cadet football field yet." "Oh, I guess they'll be there expecting us," replied the young captain. Down the other side of the long slope started the first truck, the others following in procession. "Well, we did better than I expected we would," remarked Mr. Simpson. "These trucks----" He stopped suddenly, as a sharp jar and crash came from somewhere in the mechanism of the machinery. The brakes had been set as the descent was begun, and the car had been traveling slowly, but now a sudden increase in speed was noticed. "What's the matter?" asked Mr. Hamilton quickly.