There was a rap on the door, and a clerk put his head in.
“Mr. Pendleton,” he began, mentioning the banker’s name.
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.”