“I’ll get right to the point,” the coach said, once they were all seated. “Someone is trying to ruin my team’s chances of winning the division championship, and they’re doing it with practical jokes.”

Dr. Riggs nodded in agreement. “These aren’t your average practical jokes, you understand. They are dangerous pranks that are intended to rattle the players’ nerves. We know they’re deliberate because they usually happen during games.”

“Last Tuesday, for instance,” the coach went on. “At halftime during our game against State, someone threw a smoke bomb into the locker room. My boys coughed themselves silly, and the second half was a disaster. Our rebound and foul-shot percentages were terrible. We won the game in the end, but not by much.”

“The incident the week before was bad, too,” Dr. Riggs said. “The boys arrived here for the game, only to find that the locker room had been trashed. Lockers were pulled over, and equipment was strewn everywhere. Someone had even slashed open a couple of balls.”

“How awful!” George said.

The coach addressed Nancy. “Ned tells me that you’re a whiz at getting to the bottom of things. Can you get to the bottom of this? I’d hate to lose the division title just because some fool upset my team.”

Dr. Riggs agreed. “I’m retiring at the end of this season, Miss Drew, and I’d like nothing better than to leave on a whining note.”

There was a short silence. Secretly, Nancy was disappointed. Finding a practical joker didn’t seem like much of a challenge. She was used to tougher puzzles.

“Coach Burnett, tell me—why are you asking me to look into this? Can’t the campus police handle it?” she asked.

“Evidently not,” he said in disgust. “They did investigate for a while but got nowhere. Now they tell me they can’t be bothered anymore . . . they’ve got more important matters to deal with.”