“’If you would drop this fool game and pay the same amount of attention to your political fortunes,’ I said to him, ’you would have a right to aspire to the Presidency of the United States.’  And what do you suppose he said to me?”

I assured him that I had not the slightest idea.

“‘Mr. Harding,’ he said to me in perfect seriousness, when I attempted to put this presidential bee in his bonnet, ’Mr. Harding, I would rather be able to drive a golf ball two hundred and fifty feet than be President of the United States for life.’  That’s what he said, and I told him he was crazy, and he is so mad at me that I don’t dare go near him.”

“Didn’t he say two hundred and fifty yards?” asked Carter, who had been listening intently.  “Two hundred and fifty feet is no drive.”

“Mebbe it was yards,” admitted Harding, disgusted that Carter ignored the point of his story, “but let me tell you that I’d rather be President of the United States for one minute than to be able to drive one of those little pellets two hundred and fifty miles!  I’ll tell you what I’ll do!” he exclaimed, turning fiercely on both of us.  “I never tried to play this idiotic game in my life, but I’ll bet the Scotch and soda for the three of us that I can drive a ball further than either of you.”

“That would hardly be fair,” I protested, though I was delighted at the chance to take some of the conceit out of him.  I have seen many of his type before, and it is a pleasure to witness their downfall.

“Why wouldn’t it be fair?” he demanded.

“Because you know nothing of the swing of a club or of the follow through,” I attempted to explain.

“The follow what?” he asked.

“The follow through,” I repeated.

“What the devil is the follow through?” he asked, reaching for Carter’s bag.  “Let me take yours and I’ll try it anyhow.”

“The ‘follow through’ is not a club,” I explained when we had ceased laughing, “but it is the trick of sending the face of the club after the ball when you have hit it.  It is the end of the stroke, and by it you get both distance and direction.  Without a good follow through it is impossible to drive a ball any considerable distance, no matter how great the strength with which you hit it.  This knack can only be acquired after much practise.”

“You don’t say?” he laughed.  “Let me tell you that when I used to play baseball I had a ‘follow through’ which made the fielders get out so far when I came to bat that the spectators had to use fieldglasses to see where they were.  If I hit that golf ball good and fair it will ’follow through’ into the next county, and don’t you forget that I told you so!  Come on, boys!”

Carter looked at me and winked.  There was no one waiting on the first tee, and a clear field ahead.  It was agreed that Carter should have the honour, I to follow, and that Harding should drive last.

Harding stripped off his coat and waistcoat, removed his collar and rolled up his sleeves.  I was impressed with his magnificent physique, and do not recall when I have seen so massive and well-formed a forearm.  From my bag he selected a driver which I seldom use on account of its excessive weight, and looked at it critically.