The lawyer waved him out. “I’m busy,” he said; “tell him I’ll see him directly. Three things?” he repeated, turning to Cutting. “What are they?” “In the first place,” said the young man, “when you swing, you must keep your arms away, and you mustn’t draw back with your body. Your head mustn’t move from side to side.” The lawyer looked puzzled. “Fancy a rod running down your head and spine into the ground. Now that makes your neck a sort of pivot to turn on when you swing. It’s like this.” He took the club and illustrated his idea. “A good way to practise,” he added, “is to stand with your back to the sun and watch your shadow. You can tell then if your head moves.” “That’s ingenious,” observed Mr. Heminway. He looked about the room as if he expected to find the sun in one of the corners. The awnings were down, and only a subdued light filtered in. “We might manage with an electric light,” he suggested. He turned on his desk-lamp, and arranged it on the top of the desk so that it cast its glare on the floor. Then he pulled down the window-shade. “That’s good,” said Cutting, “only it’s rather weak. Watch the shadow of my head.” He began swinging with the mashie. “I see,” said Mr. Heminway; “that’s very ingenious.” “It insures an even swing,” said Cutting. “Now, the next thing,” he went on, “is to come back slowly and not too far. That’s the great trick about iron shots especially. You can hardly come back too slowly at first. All the golf-books will tell you that. It’s put very well in McPherson’s ‘Golf Lessons.’” Mr. Heminway looked over the books on his desk. “I know I bought McPherson,” he said. “I think I lent it to Anson. He’s insane about the game.” He rang his bell, and a boy appeared. “Tell Mr. Anson that I want McPherson’s ‘Golf Lessons,’” he said. “You see,” Cutting went on, “you get just as much power and more accuracy.” He illustrated the half-swing several times. “A stroke like that, well carried through, will give you a hundred and twenty-five yards. I have a mashie with which I sometimes get a hundred and fifty.” The lawyer stretched out his hand for the club. “That looks simple,” he said; “let me try it.” Just then the boy came back with the book and a note. The note was from the banker. “He told me to be sure and have you read it right off,” said the boy. “All right,” said Mr. Heminway. He put the note on his desk. “Tell him that I shall be at liberty in a minute.” “I really ought to be going,” said Cutting; “you are very busy.” “Sit down,” said the lawyer. “I want to get the hang of this swing. That was a pretty good one,” he said, after a pause. “Did I do anything wrong?” “No,” said Cutting; “only you came back too fast, and pumped up and down instead of taking it smoothly; and you moved your head. Keep your eyes on your shadow as if it were the golf-ball. That’s better,” he added. The next instant there was a heavy chug, and the fourteen-ounce mashie bit the nap off a patch of carpet.