Part 19 (1/2)

There was only light practice the following Monday for those who had taken part in the Sat.u.r.day game, a fact which once more allowed Coach Robey to give a good deal of attention to the second and third squads.

Steve was playing right end regularly now on the third, and Tom was alternating at left guard on the second. The third squad was now down to only eleven members, and when, after a hard hour of signal work and fundamentals, the second and third were lined up for a ten-minute scrimmage, Marvin had to borrow subst.i.tutes as needed from the second.

There was no scoring that day, but there was an awful lot of hard work.

Steve made one or two good plays down the field, but, as usual, was weak on stopping the runner when he reached him. After they were dismissed, Marvin stopped him as he was trotting off with the others.

”I say, Edwards, are you very tired?” he asked.

”N-no, I guess not,” Steve replied.

”Then I wish you'd stay out a few minutes and let me try to show you about tackling.” Steve glanced distastefully at the dummy and doubtfully at Marvin. But the latter smiled and shook his head. ”Never mind the dummy, Edwards,” he said. ”We'll have our fun right here. I'm going to be the dummy and you're to stop me. Did they take all the b.a.l.l.s away?

Never mind, we'll imagine the ball. Now, first of all I'm going to show you how I'd handle you if you were the runner. Stand where you are, please.”

Marvin dropped in front of Steve and threw his arms about his legs just above the knees. ”There's your position, Edwards,” he explained. ”You see I have my body in front of you. You've not only got to work against my grip around your legs but you've got to push against my weight and resistance. Try it.”

Steve did try it, but he could only shuffle an inch or two.

”See?” asked Marvin. ”Now, then, having tackled you, it's up to me to put you down. If I let you come forward of your own impetus you'll fall toward my goal, and by stretching out your arms you'll put the ball two yards nearer the goal than where you stand. Of course you wouldn't risk holding the ball at arms' length unless there was a possibility of getting it across a goal-line by doing it. But even if you hold the ball at your stomach you'll gain a yard by falling forward. Now my play is to throw you the other way--like this!”

With a heave Marvin sent Steve toppling backward, much to that youth's surprise. Marvin jumped lightly to his feet, held out a hand to the other and pulled him up.

”See how it's done?” he asked cheerfully. ”Now you try it. Never mind diving; just drop where you are on your hip. That's it! Swing your arms around tight! Higher up, though. Remember if you're playing end the rules prohibit you from tackling a runner below the knees. That's better. Now, then, over with me!”

But it wasn't so easy. Marvin, smuggling an imaginary ball in his arms, struggled and twisted and it was all Steve could do to keep him from gaining ground, to say nothing of throwing him back.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”Lift!” instructed the quarter-back. ”Lift me up and yank my feet out from under me! Use your weight and throw me back!”]

”Lift!” instructed the quarter-back. ”Lift me up and yank my feet out from under me! Use your weight and throw me back!”

But in trying to lift the other, Steve allowed Marvin to slip past him and the quarter fell forward instead of backward.

”Try again,” said Marvin. ”It's got to be all one motion, so to say, Edwards. Get your man, wrap your arms around him and heave. Sometimes you can't do better than stop him. If he's coming hard, you won't be able to put him back. He's got to be more or less erect to make that go.

But do it whenever you can. Now, then, once more! Down you go! That's the stuff! Bully work! Don't be afraid of hurting me! _Put me back!_”

Steve actually did it that time and was so pleased that he was grinning all over his face when Marvin scrambled to his feet again.

”That was a lot better. Once get the idea fixed in your head, Edwards, and it'll come easy. You'll do it without a thought. Once more now, and put some ginger into it. Here I come!”

Marvin walked a couple of steps forward, Steve dropped and gripped his knees, heaved and over went the quarter. A dozen times Marvin made him practise it, and then,

”All right,” he said. ”Now I'm going to run toward you, Edwards. I'm going to get by you if I can, too. You've got to do your best to stop me. Don't try any flying tackles, and remember that you've got to have one foot on the ground when you get me. All right now!”

Steve was glad they had the gridiron practically to themselves, for he cut a poor figure the first three times that he tried to reach the elusive quarter-back. Once Marvin caught him with a straight arm and sent him toppling out of his path, once Marvin dodged him completely, twirling on one heel and darting past him beyond reach, and once the little quarter-back wrenched himself loose after being tackled. But the fourth time Steve was more successful, and after that he reached the runner every time even if he didn't always stop him short. Even when Steve had his arms gripped tightly about Marvin's knees, the latter was almost always able to somehow make another yard or two before he was willing to call ”Down!” But Steve learned more in that half-hour than he had learned all the season, and when, after awhile, the two boys, panting and perspiring but satisfied with themselves, walked back to the gymnasium, Steve had the grace to thank Marvin.

”That's all right,” replied the other. ”I knew you could play the game, Edwards, if you could once get the hang of making a decent tackle. And I knew, too, that the trouble with you was that you'd just sort of made up your mind that you couldn't learn, that you didn't understand what I've been trying to show you. There won't be any third squad after the middle of the week, Edwards, and if you hadn't shown something more than you've been showing in the tackling line I couldn't conscientiously have sent you up to the second.”

”That was mighty decent,” muttered Steve.

”Well, you mustn't take it as a personal favour, Edwards,” answered Marvin with a smile, ”although I'm glad to do it for you. You see, I don't want to let any good material get away. And I think you are good material, and if there was any possibility of your being of use to the second squad I wanted to get you there. Now, to-morrow we'll have another go at it, and the next day too, and every day until you can tackle a runner as well as you can handle a ball or play in the line. Is that a bargain?”

”Yes,” replied Steve heartily. ”And thanks, Marvin.”

CHAPTER XV