in hotly contested contests on the home links.

In spite of the fact that on this day there were to be played several
matches, in which visiting and local champions were to try their skill
against one another, to the delight of a large gallery, interest
centered in the cup-winners' battle. For it was rumored, and not
without semblance of truth, that large sums of money would change
hands on the result.

Not that it was gambling-oh, my no! In fact any laying of wagers was
strictly prohibited by the club's constitution. But there are ways
and means of getting cattle through a fence without taking down the
bars, and there was talk that Horace Carwell had made a pretty stiff
bet with Major Turpin Wardell as to the outcome of the match, the
major and Mr. Carwell being rivals of long standing in the matter of
drives and putts.

"Beastly fine day, eh, what?" exclaimed Bruce Garrigan, as he set down
on a tray a waiter held out to him a glass he had just emptied with
every indication of delight in its contents. "If it had been made to
order couldn't be improved on," and he flicked from the lapel of Tom
Sharwell's coat some ashes which had blown there from the cigarette
which Garrigan had lighted.

"You're right for once, Bruce, old man," was the laughing response.
"Never mind the ashes now, you'll make a spot if you rub any harder."

"Right for once? 'm always right!" cried Garrigan "And it may interest
you to know that the total precipitation, including rain and melted
snow in Yuma, Arizona, for the calendar year 1917, was three and one