"Speed it up!" ordered Dick. "Faster! Drive!"
Darry continued at his training work until Dr. Bentley called:
"Stop! Now, stand still, young man."
Bending over, Dr. Bentley placed one ear against Dave's chest,
watch in hand, while the others looked on curiously.
"Just what I thought," nodded the physician, looking up at last.
"Prescott, you have a lot of bright ideas in training, but you're
driving your squad too hard. Darrin's heart doesn't come down
to normal speed as soon as it should."
"Anything wrong with the heart, sir" asked Darry.
"Nothing. It's the trainer that's wrong," replied Dr. Bentley.
"It is a fault with a lot of trainers without long experience
that they work an athlete's heart overtime. Darrin's heart should
have slowed down in a little more than half the time required
in this instance. Set another man at work, Prescott. I can show
you how to do this properly. Let the others work as hard as Darrin
did. I want data to work on. Then I'll lay down a few suggestions
that will serve you well."
This not being interesting to the high school girls, they chatted
among themselves.
In the end Dr. Bentley read off some figures he had jotted down,
and explained to Prescott what he must regard as a satisfactory
heart performance after each bit of training work.
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