“I’m afraid I have bad news for you, Ted,” said Coach Trayne gravely. “I suppose you know that Frank Merriwell, senior, ran over from Bloomfield last Thursday?”
“Yes, sir,” said the perplexed Crockett. “I know he made a hurry visit, and I supposed that it had something to do with Clancy’s jumping off for Carsonville.”
“Not altogether. He came over to make certain arrangements, and to let me know about something important that has just turned up. Mr. Merriwell gave me permission to use the information at my discretion. I suppose you will regard it as confidential if I pass it on to you, Crockett?”
“Why, certainly, sir!”
Crockett sat up, his eyes beginning to bulge. He knew that something serious had come up, for it was seldom that Coach Trayne used his “business tone” when off duty.
“I hope that nothing really grave has happened, sir?”
“You can judge for yourself, Ted. We’re likely to lose the services of Chip Merriwell for the rest of the season.”
“Wh-a-a-t!”
Crockett stared at the trainer as if he thought the latter’s senses had taken flight. Lose Chip Merriwell, just when Fardale was counting on sweeping all her foes before her! Impossible!
“Are you joking, Mr. Trayne?” he gasped.