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Browns fumbled the ball, and Frank pounced on it.
    From the huddle Mike looked behind him, and shook. They were ten yards from the Browns’ goal line!
    He turned and looked at the ten faces waiting for him to call a play. But what play should he call? What play could get them
     nearer to that goal line?
    “Let me run it,” Frank piped up.
    “Throw me a pass,” said Larry.
    “Fake a pass, then hand it off to me,” Butch suggested.
    Suddenly all the other players tried to tell Mike what play to call. He was so confused he didn’t know what to do.
    A whistle shrilled. “Delay of game!”shouted the ref. “Five yards penalty!”
    Now the ball was
fifteen
yards from the Browns’ goal line!
    Suddenly a substitute came running in from the Jets’ bench. “The coach says try a short pass to Larry,” he said to Mike, then
     told one of the other players to leave.
    Mike tried the pass. And it worked. They scored!
    Again and again in the first quarter the coach sent in plays from the bench. Sometimes they didn’t work, but most of the time
     they did.
    Mike felt relieved. As long as the coach kept sending in the plays, the Jets had a good chance of winning the game. And earning
     their new uniforms, too.
    Then, in the middle of the second quarter, something happened. Coach Hawkins, who had been pacing back and forth at the sideline,
     let out a yell and suddenly fell down.
    Both teams stopped moving and stared at him lying on the grass.
    “He’s hurt!” Mike cried, and sprinted toward the sideline. The others took off after him.

    “What happened, Coach?” Mike asked when he reached him.
    “Sprained my ankle in that doggone hole!” Coach Hawkins said, pointing at a small hole in the ground behind him.
    “Oh, no!” Mike wailed. Harry, crouched next to the coach, looked up.
    “Don’t look at me just because he said ‘doggone,’” said Harry. “It wasn’t my fault.”
    “Who said it was?” Mike replied. He looked back at the coach. “What do you want us to do, Coach?”
    “Win this ball game,” answered the coach. “But you’ll have to do it without me. I’m going home to take care of this ankle.
     This time you’ve
got
to run the team.”
    Mike’s face dropped.
    “Mind if I take your pooch with me?” the coach went on. “I can watch the game through my field glasses and enjoyhis company at the same time. How about it?”
    Mike and Harry exchanged glances. “Is it okay with you?” Mike asked.
    “Sure, if it’s okay with you,” said Harry. “After all, I am your dog.”
    Mike agreed to let Harry go with the coach. A friend of Coach Hawkins’s then helped him off the field, and Harry left with
     them.

    Mike shook his head sadly as he turned his attention back to his teammates. “Guys, we can kiss those uniforms good-bye,” he
     said, and headed back onto the field. “Come on. Let’s finish the game.”
    Within five minutes the Browns scored two touchdowns on a run through right tackle, and made both kicks for the extra point
     good. Jets 14, Browns 14.
    In the third quarter the Browns scored two more times, but they missed the kick for the extra point once. Jets 14, Browns
     27.
    As his team started to lose, Mike got more and more mixed up about which play to call. He had never wished sobadly for a game to end. Of all the times for the coach to sprain an ankle.
    Suddenly a voice cut into his unhappy thoughts. “Mike! Hey, Mike! Are you listening?”
    “Don’t bother me, Harry,” he said. “It’s our ball and I’ve got to figure out something —”
    “I know!” Harry’s excited thoughts came through to him as clear as a bell. “The coach got his ankle taped and now he’s watching the game from his porch through his field glasses. And he’s yelling ‘razzle-dazzle!’”

    “Razzle-dazzle? Hey, that’s great! The razzle-dazzle, guys!” Mike ordered. “Let’s go!”
    The play had the Browns running back and forth on the field like crazy, wondering which Jet had the