work with all this social powwow going on."

"A day's? He does three days' work in every one. He's the hardest
trained mind in the business. Why, he could sit down here this minute,
in the middle of this room, and dictate an editorial while keeping up
his end in the general talk. I've seen him do it."

"He must be a wonder at concentration."

"Concentration? If he didn't invent it, he perfected it. Tell you a
story. Ban doesn't go in for any game except polo. One day some of the
fellows at The Retreat got talking golf to him--"

"The Retreat? Good Lord! He doesn't belong to The Retreat, does he?"

"Yes; been a member for years. Well, they got him to agree to try it.
Jim Tamson, the pro--he's supposed to be the best instructor in
America--was there then. Banneker went out to the first tee, a 215-yard
hole, watched Jim perform his show-em-how swing, asked a couple of
questions. 'Eye on the ball,' says Jim. 'That's nine tenths of it. The
rest is hitting it easy and following through. Simple and easy,' says
Jim, winking to himself. Banneker tries two or three clubs to see which
feels easiest to handle, picks out a driving-iron, and slams the ball
almost to the edge of the green. Chance? Of course, there was some luck
in it. But it was mostly his everlasting ability to keep his attention
focused. Jim almost collapsed. 'First time I ever saw a beginner that
didn't top,' says he. 'You'll make a golfer, Mr. Banneker.'

"'Not me,' says Ban. 'This game is too easy. It doesn't interest me.' He
hands Jim a twenty-dollar bill, thanks him, goes in and has his bath,
and has never touched a golf-stick since."

Gardner had been listening with a kindling eye. He brought his fist down
on his knee. "You've told me something!" he exclaimed.

"Going to try it out on your own game?"

"Not about golf. About Banneker. I've been wondering how he managed to
establish himself as an individual figure in this big town. Now I begin
to see it. It's publicity; that's what it is. He's got the sense of how
to make himself talked about. He's picturesque. I'll bet Banneker's
first and last golf shot is a legend in the clubs yet, isn't it?"

"It certainly is," confirmed Mallory. "But do you really think that he
reasoned it all out on the spur of the moment?"

"Oh, reasoned; probably not. It's instinctive, I tell you. And the
twenty to the professional was a touch of genius. Tamson will never stop
talking about it. Can't you hear him, telling it