I
knew that a smooth faced, poddy party had shot a golf ball with "Ha,
ha!" written on it into Old Hickory's private office. Must have been
done deliberate, too, for he'd taken pains to have the window marked
plain for him with the red card. And at that it was some shot, I'll say.
Couldn't have come from the street, on account of the distance. Then
there was the grass stain. Grass? Now where----

By this time I'm leanin' out over the sill down at the roofs of the
adjoinin' buildings. And after I'd stretched my neck for a while I
happens to look directly underneath. There it was. Uh-huh. A little
green square of lawn alongside the janitor's roof quarters. You know
you'll find 'em here and there on office building roofs, even down in
Wall Street. And this being right next door and six or seven stories
below had been so close that we'd overlooked it at first.

So now I knew what he looked like, and where he stood. But who was he,
and what was the grand idea? It don't take me long to chase down to the
ground floor and into the next building. And, of course, I tackles the
elevator starter. They're the wise boys. Always. I don't know why it is,
but you'll generally find that the most important lookin' and actin'
bird around a big buildin' is the starter. And what he don't know about
the tenants and their business ain't worth findin' out.

On my way through the arcade I'd stopped at the cigar counter and
invested in a couple of Fumadoras with fancy bands on 'em. Tuckin' the
smokes casual into the starter's outside coat pocket I establishes
friendly relations almost from the start.

"Well, son," says he, "is it the natural blond on the seventh, or the
brunette vamp who pounds keys on the third that you want to meet?"

"Ah, come, Captain!" says I. "Do I look like a Gladys-hound? Nay, nay!
I'm simply takin' a sport census."

"Eh!" says he. "That's a new one on me."

"Got any golf bugs in your buildin', Cap?" I goes on.

"Any?" says he. "Nothing but. Say, you'll see more shiny hardware lugged
out of here on a Saturday than----"

"But did you notice any being lugged in today?" I breaks in.

"No," says he. "It's a little early for 'em to start the season, and too
near the first of the week. Don't remember a single bag goin' in today."

"Nor a club, either?" I asks.

He takes off his cap and rubs his right ear. Seems to help, too. "Oh,
yes," says he. "I remember now. There was an old boy carried one in
along about 10 o