"The position," said Alexander, "will be falling vacant very shortly, as no doubt you know. It is yours, if you care to accept it."
"You mean—you mean—you're going to give me the job?"
"You have interpreted me exactly."
Mitchell gulped. So did his caddie. One from a spiritual, the other from a physical cause.
"If you don't mind excusing me," said Mitchell, huskily, "I think I'll be popping back to the club-house. Someone I want to see."
He disappeared through the trees, running strongly. I turned to Alexander.
"What does this mean?" I asked. "I am delighted, but what becomes of the test?"
My old friend smiled gently.
"The test," he replied, "has been eminently satisfactory. Circumstances, perhaps, have compelled me to modify the original idea of it, but nevertheless it has been a completely successful test. Since we started out, I have been doing a good deal of thinking, and I have come to the conclusion that what the Paterson Dyeing and Refining Company really needs is a treasurer whom I can beat at golf. And I have discovered the ideal man. Why," he went on, a look of holy enthusiasm on his fine old face, "do you realize that I can always lick the stuffing out of that boy, good player as he is, simply by taking a little trouble? I can make him get the wind up every time, simply by taking one or two extra practice-swings! That is the sort of man I need for a responsible post in my office."
"But what about Rupert Dixon?" I asked.