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"Two people wanting to get on," said Shotwell, as Ravenel went to the coach's rear platform. "They in a buggy. Now they out. Here they Law', Miss Fannie, who you reckon it is? Guess! You cayn't, miss!" Barbara, with studied indifference, asked Fair the time of day. "There," said Shotwell, "they've gone into the cah behind us." "Sister March and her son," observed Garnet to Mrs.
"Sam, can you do better? Do you want to go back on the job?" asked Ben Badger. "No," replied the Gridley captain. "It's been tough on us, but you've done everything that I could have done. I'm satisfied, and I believe the coach is." "We'll ask him," proposed Badger. Morton was hurrying toward his boys. The coach's face was impassive.
Four years of dogged, unremitting toil with never the reward of a varsity seat, and now with the great regatta less than a week away, the big moment, the crown of all he had done. Words seemed on the verge of the coach's lips. Deacon's eyes strained upon them as he sat stiffly in his seat. But no words came; the coach turned away. "All right," he said spiritlessly. "Paddle back to the float."
The faculty watched anxiously to see the effect of such summary treatment on the student body, but were relieved to find that the new coach's following was in no wise diminished, and that better conduct began presently to be the order of the day.
But his face told a different tale, and that night, when he went to his bed, sleep refused to come; and to the accompaniment of his comrades' heavy breathing that being the most charitable term that can be applied to it he once more went over his old life at Mr Draycott's, from his first entering the great coach's establishment up to the morning he had left.
Pemberton watched, with his heart fluttering up into his throat. The head coach's gaze fixed itself upon him, passed on up the line, came back to him and stayed. Pemberton dropped his eyes. It isn't good form to stare Fate in the face. Was it a second later or an age that his name was called?" "Go in at left half; tell Haker to come out.
Though coach's manner was mild enough, there was look of the resolute eyes of this famous college athlete that made Phin Drayne realized how I hopeless it was to expect any consideration from him. "All right then Mr. Morton," he replied huskily. "I'll do my best on a small showing, and take what comes to me."
The captain leaned out and said something that was unintelligible in the hubbub without. The crowd cheered him and called for Reddy, Ward, and Raymond. Worry grasped the second-baseman and shoved him half over the sill. Raymond would have fallen out but for the coach's strong hold. "Come on, Peg!" yelled Worry. "Not on your life!" cried Ken, in affright.
This stroke has since been so changed by leading swimmers, it is probably entirely different from that originally introduced. A great many amateur and professional coaches advocate the teaching of the crawl to beginners. I would have the pupil note the difference between a Coach and Swimming Instructor. The Coach's pupil knows how to swim, but the Instructor must first teach his pupil.
Marvin was driving them from a position at the rear, occasionally darting into the line, to correct a fault or illustrate a play. Unfortunately, Carmine, who was at quarter, noticed the coach's advent and immediately got flustered. When two plays had gone wrong Mr. Robey said: "Marvin, you get in there and play quarter for a minute and give that man a chance to remember his signals.
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