“Let's see you beat that throw yourself,” laughed Perkins, who was by no means pleased with the sudden distinction that had come to the “Scotty.”
Cameron took the hammer and, with the easy slow grace of the Braemar swing, made his throw.
“Hooray!” yelled Danny, who was doing the measuring. “You got it yon time for sure. Three paces to the good. You'll have to put your back into it, Mack, I guess.”
Once more Mack seized the hammer. Then Cameron took Mack in hand and, over and over again, coached him in the poise and swing.
“Now try it, and think of your legs and back. Let the hammer take care of itself. Now, nice and easy and slow, not far this time.”
Again and again Mack practised the swing.
“You're getting it!” cried Cameron enthusiastically, “but you are trying too hard. Forget the distance this time and think only of the easy slow swing. Let your muscles go slack.” So he coached his pupil.
At length, after many attempts, Mack succeeded in delivering his hammer according to instructions.
“Man! you are right!” he exclaimed. “That's the trick of it and it is as smooth as oil.”
“Keep it up, Mack,” said Cameron, “and always easy.”