"Can't we jump out before it goes any faster?" asked Hal Foster.
"Stay where you are!" fairly shouted the man. "Maybe I can guide her down."
He was tooting the horn frantically to warn possible approaching vehicles that his was out of control. Fortunately the hill was straight, and a level stretch at the bottom gave promise of a long coast that might check the awful speed the car would have when it reached the foot of the declivity.
Faster and faster went the runaway truck, and now from behind came the frantic calls of the other cadets who realized the danger to their football team. And there was grave danger—danger that could not be avoided, for Simpson, yanking again and again on the brake lever, only made more certain that it would not work, and the foot brake was pitifully inadequate to check the now rushing vehicle.
CHAPTER XXVI
ANOTHER GAME
There was silence for a time among the cadets of the football team—silence broken only by the whirr and hum of the machinery as it ran free, for the gasolene had been shut off. Under the big tires crunched the small stones and gravel of the road.
"Can't you start the motor and hold her back on the reverse?" shouted Dick above the noise.
Simpson shook his head.