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LaHume made several attempts to join in their conversation, and though Wallace lent him all possible aid Miss Lawrence effectually discouraged LaHume's participation. He reminded me of a boy making ineffectual attempts to "catch on behind" a swift-moving sleigh, and who is finally tumbled on his head for his pains. Mrs.
I have a suspicion that this was not a lucky day in LaHume's campaign for the Lawrence hand and fortune. Miss Grace Harding is here again, and I am to play a game of golf with her to-morrow. Carter does not know it yet, but that is because I have not had a chance to tell him.
The blow had been aimed at the breast or neck, but Wallace parried it and received the scratch before he could grasp LaHume's wrist. The quick wrench which caused the knife to fly from LaHume's hand fractured one of the small bones in his forearm, as was learned when that desperate young man had more fully recovered. It was a disagreeable incident, and I take no pleasure in recording it.
Wallace knows how to play golf, and that he learned the game on some of the famous old courses of Scotland. He has promised to teach me the St. Andrews swing." LaHume's face was a study as Miss Lawrence made this rather startling announcement. Surprise, disgust, and anger were reflected in his eyes and in the lines of his mouth. "You have played St. Andrews?" asked Carter of Wallace.
The latter stopped, and though the trio was quite a distance away, we could plainly hear LaHume's voice, but could not make out the words. Wallace made a deprecatory gesture and Miss Lawrence drew herself up and faced LaHume in an attitude of scorn. I noted that LaHume was gesticulating with his left hand, and that his right arm was lowered and to his back. He kept edging closer to Wallace.
He looked at the end of it critically, placed the ball on a clod of soil, glanced at us and called "Fore!" and then lofted that ball with as clean a shot as ever I saw, dropping it almost at LaHume's feet. He bowed again, twirled the stick about his fingers, and then turned and went toward the farmhouse.
Of a sudden LaHume's right hand swung out and he made a vicious lunge at Wallace. I saw the latter throw up his guard, but it was too far away to tell if the blow had landed. There was a struggle for a second or two, then Wallace pushed him clear, and like lightning I saw his left hand swing across to LaHume's stomach.
The grin on LaHume's face died out. "Why, LaHume and " "You've gone far enough," laughed Miss Harding. "Let me help you out, papa. We will select the gentlemen first. Please take down this list, Mr. Smith. Suppose we name Mr. LaHume, Mr. Carter, Mr. Marshall, Mr. Chilvers, Mr. Smith, and Papa Harding. Then there's Miss Lawrence, Miss Ross, Mrs. Marshall, Mrs. Chilvers, Mamma, and myself.
Wallace rimmed the cup for a two, and both made threes, one stroke better than bogy. It was lightning golf. LaHume's face was a study. The fifth hole is 470 yards, and both were within easy chopping approach of the green on their second. Wallace had the worst of a bad kick, and Kirkaldy holed a thirty-foot putt for a par four, making him two up. LaHume smiled once again.
"Wallace is a stranger to the course, but I doubt if Kirkaldy or anyone living can beat him seven strokes." Harding covered LaHume's money, and the latter placed several hundred dollars more at the same odds. Miss Lawrence heard he was betting against Wallace, and her eyes blazed with indignation. "You go to Mr. LaHume," she said to Marshall, "and ask him what odds he will give that Mr.
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