"This is absurd," I said, after three or four minutes.

"By jove!" said Smith, suddenly brightening up. "If your ball's lost I
win after all."

"Nonsense; you've given the hole up," I protested. "You don't know how
many you've played. According to the rules, if I ask you how many, and
you give wrong information--"

"It's thirty-five," he said promptly.

"I don't believe you counted."

"Call it forty-five then. There's nothing to prevent my calling it more
than it really is. If it was really only forty, then I'm counting five
occasions when the ball rolled over as I was addressing it. That's very
generous of me. Actually I'm doubtful if the ball did roll over five
times, but I say it did in order to be on the safe side." He looked at
his watch. "And if you don't find your ball in thirty seconds, you lose
the hole."

It was ingenious, but the Mother Country can be ingenious too.

"How many have you played exactly?" I asked. "Be careful."

"Forty-five," he said. "Exactly."

"Right." I took my niblick and swung at the heather. "Bother," I said.
"Missed it. Two."