Presently, Harrison lashed an exceptional spoon that chewed up the flag and nestled in about 15 feet away.
"Let him eat some of that," Dutch thought.
To which Mr. Innocent hit a four-iron an arm's length from the cup.
"Bob," said Dutch to Hamilton, "we done got ourselves hold of somethin' here."
Later, on the 18th green, where Dutch and Hamilton paid off, the young man said, "Sure do thank you folks. Say, what time tomorrow you gonna be out here?"
"Son," Harrison said, "you work your side of the road and we'll work ours."
"And that," says Harrison today, "is the first time I ever met Sam Snead."
The old tour was no sooner meeting Snead than along came a quite different newcomer, Ben Hogan. He was a loner and a brooder with an uncontrollable hook who had about everyone convinced that he would never make it. Devoting every waking hour to his game, Hogan warmed up to only a few of his contemporaries—mainly to Demaret, his four-ball partner, to Henry Picard, a gracious and helpful veteran who loaned both money and advice ( Picard and Craig Wood were Snead's first sponsors), and to Dutch Harrison.
Harrison discovered one evening when he was rooming with Ben just how determined the Texan was. Dutch couldn't go to sleep because Hogan kept beating his fists against the bedposts in their hotel room.
"Have you gone crazy?" Dutch asked.