sity sprinter and could cover
a hundred yards in ten flat. The other was a fellow of about the same
build who didn't have as much speed--I think the best he could do in the
century dash was eleven or eleven and a half--yet that first man failed
to make the team and the other fellow, who would have been left far
behind in a sprint, was a regular on the eleven for three years and
could always be relied upon to do his share in carrying the ball. He had
a way of running straight at a tackler and then shifting direction in
such a manner that you couldn't seem to bring him down. And then, of
course, he was clever in using the straight arm and he always ran with
high knee-action. When you tackled him it felt just as if you were
tackling a man with a dozen legs, all of which were going up and down
like the piston rod on a steam engine.

"Now you get down there in the middle of the field, Teeny-bits, and try
to pass Neil and me. See what you can do to keep us guessing and when
you use your straight arm remember to throw your hips; don't stand up
stiff like a wooden Indian target."

Teeny-bits followed directions and again and again came down upon the
coach and the captain, remembering their instructions to shift, to use
his straight arm, to dodge, to change his pace and to exercise every
stratagem that differentiates the skilful back-field runner from the
novice. He felt that he was learning real football and took each bit of
advice that was offered with an intense concentration.

"I wish you could have seen some movie pictures of one of the college
games that I saw last year," said Coach Murray. "It showed better than
any talk could show just what I mean by change of pace. The back that
made the greatest gains of any man on the field had an uncanny way of
eluding tacklers. The films showed how he did it. Again and again he
slowed down just before the opposing tackle reached him--when they were
running the film slowly it looked almost as if he stopped--and then,
when the tackler leaped forward to bring him down, that shifty runner
would slip around like a fox leaping away from a dog, and on he would
go, leaving the tackler sprawling on the ground. Now try it again!"

Teeny-bits put his whole soul into this practice and at the end of the
half-hour felt that he was making real headway.

"You're getting it great," said Neil Durant, as they walked back to the
campus together. "The coach is wonderful on helping a fellow; and you