in disgust.

"Well, there is a mystery about it, anyway," contended Tom Reade.

"Then, before I'm much older, I'm going to know what that mystery
is," declared Dick.

"You're surely the one of our crowd who ought to be put on the
trail of the mystery," proposed Dalzell, with a laugh.

"Why?" challenged Prescott.

"Why, you're a reporter on 'The Blade.' Now mysteries are supposed
to constitute the especial field of reporters. So, see here,
fellows, I move that we appoint Dick Prescott a committee of
one for Dick & Co., his job being to find out what ails football---to
learn just what has made football sick this year."

"Hear! Hear!" cried some of the others.

"Is that your unanimous wish, fellows?" asked Dick, smiling.

"It is," the others agreed.

"Very good, then," sighed Prescott. "At no matter what personal
cost, I will find the answer for you."

This was all in a spirit of fun, as the chums understood. Yet
this lightly given promise was likely to involve Dick Prescott
in a good deal more than he had expected.