the practice was over, he fell into step with the boy and walked with him toward the school gym.
"Martin," he said without preamble, "do you know you're walking mighty close to the line?"
The boy looked at him with an unworried grin. "Classes?"
"What else? You know what will happen if you drop below a 70 average? No baseball."
The boy's grin widened. "I've been close to the line before. You haven't seen me falling over."
"You can't skate on thin ice forever without breaking through," the coach said sharply.
He was worried. He had a pretty clear conception of Martin's weaknesses and failings. The first time a specific danger presented itself the boy would be moved by a sense of caution to safeguard himself. Then, by degrees, as threat after threat would be sidestepped, he would become presumptuous and contemptuous. "This," he would tell himself, "can never happen to me" And then, in an unguarded moment, while lulled by a false feeling of security, disaster might strike him down. The coach had seen it happen to other boys in the past.
From the locker room came the echoof "Speed" Martin's voice, singing:
Worries pass me by
