“Yes, a terrible mess!” Johnny’s voice carried conviction.
Johnny told of his dilemma, told it as he had never told anything before.
“But why not let me fly you over?” the other suggested simply.
“Done!” Johnny gripped his hand. “I—I’ll go get Kentucky and-and thanks.”
“Save that for the end of the trip,” the pilot grinned.
“Are—are you,” Johnny had been struck by a sudden thought, “could you use a little publicity on your new type of motor?”
On his way to find Kentucky, Johnny scribbled a note, then thrust it together with two new paper dollars into Lige Field’s hand.
“Here Lige,” he exclaimed, “hop on your pony and ride like sixty to the Gap. Get this message off. The change is all yours.”
“Thanks, Johnny! Thanks a powerful lot!” Lige was away and so was Johnny.
After racing up the creek and over a low ridge to notify Kentucky of their good-bad fortune of a wrecked car and a promised airplane ride, without waiting for the other boy to pack his bag, he hastened back toward the meadow and the waiting plane.
On the way he caught up with Donald Day. “Come on along with me to the meadow,” he urged. “We’re flying back to Hillcrest for tomorrow’s game.”
“Boy! You’re going high-hat in a big way!” Donald exclaimed, increasing his speed.
“One thing I wanted to ask you,” Johnny said after a moment of silent marching. “What would happen if you pumped a quantity of liquid air into a football?”
“Football would get mighty cold, nearly freezing, perhaps worse.”
“Then it would expand until it burst. You can’t confine liquid air, at least not in any ordinary way.”
“That,” said Johnny, “was just what I suspected. Those fellows played a trick on us. A player kicked the football into the bleachers, one of the fans substituted another ball he’d just given a shot of liquid air.”
“Strange sort of thing to do,” Donald’s brow wrinkled. “Tell me about it.”
Johnny did tell him about that football game and the bursting ball.
“Queer sense of humor,” was Donald’s comment. “Lost them the game, didn’t it?”
“At least they lost it,” Johnny chuckled. “Hope there’ll be no monkey shines tomorrow. Guess there won’t be. Good clean, hard-fighting crowd, that Naperville team. But they’ve got to take a licking. And they will if only the old Doc will let Kentucky play.”