He turned to Alexander, who had been an impassive spectator of the
scene.
'I'm through!' he said. 'I concede the match. Good-bye. You'll find me
in the bay!'
'Going swimming?'
'No. Drowning myself.'
A gentle smile broke out over my old friend's usually grave face. He
patted Mitchell's shoulder affectionately.
'Don't do that, my boy,' he said. 'I was hoping you would stick around
the office awhile as treasurer of the company.'
Mitchell tottered. He grasped my arm for support. Everything was very
still. Nothing broke the stillness but the humming of the bees, the
murmur of the distant wavelets, and the sound of Mitchell's caddie
going on with his apple.
'What!' cried Mitchell.
'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.
He gave a gesture of distaste.
'I wouldn't trust that man. Why, when I played with him, everything
went wrong, and he just smiled and didn't say a word. A man who can do
that is not the man to trust with the control of large sums of money.
It wouldn't be safe. Why, the fellow isn't honest! He can't be.' He
paused for a moment. 'Besides,' he added, thoughtfully, 'he beat me by
six and five. What's the good of a treasurer who beats the boss by six
and five?'
7
