The gentleman farmer, without losing his composure despite Sweeney’s imprisonment of his sleeve, led the red-bearded inspector to the sidelines, away from the crowd.
“Young man, let me just tell you, one doesn’t speak when a player takes his stance!” the old expert berated him.
“I’m terribly sorry, sir,” apologized the Scot, “it’s my first time attending a tournament. What does stance mean?”
“It’s the position a golfer takes as he stands over the ball, ready to hit. Didn’t you know that?”
“Uh… No. I don’t know anything about golf.”
“I would have thought you did, seeing you with your sand wedge on your shoulder.”
“Oh that? That was a present. I don’t even know how to use it properly.”
“Well, if you’ll allow me… The players are getting ready for their second shot and I don’t want to m
