Neither of us was satisfied with his tee shot at the next hole. I
picked my ball out of a gorse-bush, and Haynes rescued his from a
drain. Then we strolled amicably towards the third tee. Our caddies,
unused to such methods, followed reluctantly.

"Was that 'ole 'alved, too, Sir?" piped Mabel with anxious interest.

"It's a nice point. I hardly know. Why?"

She hung her head and blushed. A sudden suspicion struck me.

"Mabel," I said sternly, "are you--_can_ you be--_betting_ on this
game?"

"Yes, Sir," she answered with a touch of defiance. "Boys always does."

I told Haynes, who appeared profoundly shocked.

"Good G----! I mean, _Mon dieu!_" he exclaimed. "What are we doing?"

"Surely you can't hold us responsible? The child's parents ..."

"I don't mean _that_, you ass. Here we have the innocent public
putting its money on our play, and we're treating the whole thing as a
joke. This has got to be a match, after all. A woman's fortune hangs
upon the issue--doesn't it, Lucy?"

"Yes, Sir," she answered without comprehension.

From this point the game became a grim struggle. I won the third hole