Then Chief Garrity shushed him suddenly. "Quiet, skipper! Something's going on!"
Something was, indeed. The radio announcer was in a dither. "—and it looks bad for the Wranglers, friends! The Rocketeers' quick kick has them on the one yard line ... now they're lining up to kick out of trouble.... Wait a minute! Here comes a substitute from the Wrangler bench. It's—we don't have time to get you his name, folks, but it's number 36. He's going in at quarterback for O'Doule—"
Hanson gibed, "Well, Biggs?"
The announcer continued, "Number 36 in at quarterback, folks. Now he's calling signals. There's the snapback. The new man is going to kick.... No, he's going to pass.... No, he's going to run.... No—he's fumbled!
"There's a pile-up behind the goalposts! They're unscrambling the players. And—it's a touchdown for the Rocketeers, folks! The score is 13-0!"
Hanson let loose a great roar of delight. "There! I knew it! Good thing you didn't bet, Biggs!"
And then, astonishingly, Lancelot Biggs spoke up. "How much would you like to wager, Captain?"
"How—much?" Hanson looked stunned. "Every cred in my poke, Lieutenant. Two hundred and fifty."
"I'll take that bet," said Biggs.