Pink looked at Train again, then back at the green and grinned. "How many tries?" he said.
"One swing, just like we were playing golf."
It was quiet a minute while Pink thought it over. The other two men seemed like they would prefer to be somewhere else, and looked off in other directions.
"One try, from right where you're standing, inside my ball," Pink said. Mr. Packard was starting to looked bored.
"Double or nothing, the whole day."
Train stood still, trying to figure out how he got into this, how he was going to get out. Strangely, though, there was something working the other direction too, that wanted to be part of it. He felt Pink sizing him up.
"What's the catch?" Pink said.
Mr. Packard gave him that soft grin he had, and when he answered, he sounded surprised the fat man would think some-tiling like that. "The catch?" he said. "There isn't any catch. Yesterday you asked Lionel Walk Jr. here what he would hit from this spot, and he said a nine-iron. So we'll hand him a nine-iron and see if he can do it."
The two other men looked at each other, didn't seem to understand.
"And if he can, he can," Mr. Packard said, "and if he can't, he can't."