"One hundred and twenty-one feet and two inches," was the final verdict,
and from the crowd there rose a roar that rolled like thunder around the
hills.
"It's a fluke, and so it is!" said McGee with another oath.
"Give me your hand, lad," said Duncan Ross, evidently much roused. "It
iss a noble throw whateffer, and worthy of beeg Rory himself. I haf done
better, howeffer, but indeed I may not to-day."
It was indeed a great throw, and one immediate result was that there
was no holding back in the contest, no playing 'possum. Mack's throw was
there to be beaten, and neither McGee nor even Black Duncan could afford
to throw away a single chance. For hammer-throwing is an art requiring
not only strength but skill as well, and not only strength and skill but
something else most difficult to secure. With the strength and the skill
there must go a rhythmic and perfect coordination of all the muscles in
the body, with exactly the proper contracting and relaxing of each at
exactly the proper moment of time, and this perfect coordination is a
result rarely achieved even by the greatest throwers, but when achieved,
and with the man's full strength behind it, his record throw is the
result.
Meantime Cameron was hovering about his man in an ecstasy of delight.
"Oh, Mack, old man!" he said.
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