I was still over by the window, sort of smilin' to myself, when Old
Hickory walks in, havin' concluded to absorb only a sandwich and a glass
of milk at the arcade cafeteria instead of goin' to his club.

"Well, young man," says he. "Have you any more wise deductions to
submit?"

"I've got all the dope, if that's what you mean, sir," says I.

"Eh?" says he. "Not who and what and why?"

I nods easy.

"I don't believe it, son," says he. "It's uncanny. To begin with, who
was the man?"

"Don't you remember havin' a debate not long ago with someone who
claimed he could pull some wonderful stunt with a mashie-niblick?" says
I.

"Why," says Old Hickory, "with no one but Dowd."

"You bet him he couldn't, didn't you?" I asks.

"Certainly," says he.

"Well, he can," says I. "And he has."

"Wha-a-at!" gasps Old Hickory.

"Uh-huh!" says I. "It was him that shot in the ball with the Ha, ha!
message on it."

"But--but from where?" he demands.

"Look!" says I, leadin' him to the window.

"The old sinner!" says Mr. Ellins. "Why, that must be nearly one hundred
feet, and almost straight up! Some shot! I didn't think it was in him.
Hagen could do no better. And think of putting it through a window.
That's accuracy for you. Say, if he can do that in a game I shall be
proud to know him. Anyway, I shall not regret handing over that
twenty-five."

"It'll cost him nearly that to set another pane of plate glass," I
suggests.

"No, Torchy, no," says Old Hickory, wavin' his hand. "Any person who can
show such marksmanship with a golf ball is quite welcome to---- Ah, just
answer that 'phone call, will you, son?"

So I steps over and takes down the receiver. "It's the buildin'
superintendent," says I "He wants to speak to you, sir."

"See what he wants," says Old Hickory

And I expect I was grinnin' some when I turns around after gettin' the
message. "He says somebody has been shootin' golf balls at the south
side of the buildin' all the forenoon," says I, "and that seventeen
panes of glass have, been smashed. He wants to know what he shall do."

"Do?" says Old Hickory. "Tell him to send for a glazier."

CHAPTER XVII

NO LUCK WITH AUNTIE

Well, I expect I've gone and done it again. Queered myself with Auntie.
Vee's, of course. You'd most think I'd know how to handle the old girl
by this time, for we've been rubbin' elbows, as you might say, for quite
a few years now. But somehow we seldom hit it off just