"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