"That fence!" yelled Simpson in supreme contempt. "I'll smash it into kindling wood! Hold fast everybody! Here we go!" A moment later he had swung the car toward the hayfield. Fortunately it was on a level with the road, or the front part of the auto would never have sustained the shock. Through the fence the ponderous machine crashed as if it were paper. The next instant the big car plowed straight into a big stack of hay. Like so many rubber balls, the football players were thrown forward against one another, and Dick and the two coaches were tossed out into the fragrant timothy. Then a cheer burst from the other cadets in the three following trucks which had come to a stop. For they saw that their comrades were safe. The man on the bridge had succeeded in disentangling his horses and they were now quiet. Simpson leaped from his seat, which he had managed to maintain, and looked under the truck. "I knew it!" he cried. "Brake rod busted. Oh, if I had the man who made that!" "Can we go on?" asked Dick anxiously as he picked himself up from the hay. "Wouldn't dare to without this brake rod being fixed" replied the driver. "There are more hills." "Here, you football fellows get in one of these other trucks. We'll pile out and walk to the grounds--it's not far," called Percy Haddon. "That's the stuff!" shouted Manager Hatfield. "We haven't any too much time. Are you boys all right?" "Sure," answered Paul with a laugh. "We're ready to play the game of our lives." "That's right!" came in a chorus from the others. Now that the strain was over there was a bit of hysterical feeling, but it soon passed away. Little time was lost in making the transfer. The football team and the substitutes got in one of the other trucks and were soon being whizzed off to the grounds. The other two trucks, containing as many of the remaining cadets as could squeeze into them, pressed on, and only a few had to walk the remaining distance. Simpson backed his truck out of the hayfield which had practically saved a number of lives that day. Then the driver began work at repairing the brake rod, his companions promising to return for him when they had taken the cadets to the grounds. Nor would Simpson accept any pay for the services he had rendered that day. "I've got stock in your road, Mr. Hamilton," he said, "though it is only two shares. This was a good test of the trucks, and I'm glad only a brake rod busted. It was better to happen now than after I had delivered 'em. I'm satisfied." The Mooretown cadets were becoming anxious about the non-appearance of their opponents, for the hour for the game was fast approaching, when Dick and his players came running out on the gridiron. They were greeted with a rousing cheer, for, though the rules called for the forfeiting of a contest to the non-appearing team, the Mooretown cadets were true sportsmen and hated to take this advantage.