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Updated: May 13, 2025
It was the chief day of the year for the Maraposa Golf Club, for on it were to be played several matches, not the least in importance being that of the cup-winners, open only to such members as had won prizes in hotly contested contests on the home links.
Golf is an uncertain game, especially when there's a match on among the old boys like Horace Carwell and the crowd of past-performers and cup-winners he trails along with. He's just as likely to pull or slice as the veriest novice, and once he starts to slide he's a goner. No reserve comeback, you know." "Oh, I've not so sure about that.
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!
While there were many matches to be played at the Maraposa Club that day, interest, as far as the older members and their friends were concerned, was centered in that for cup-winners. These constituted the best players the veterans of the game and the contest was sure to be interesting and close. Horace Carwell was a "sport," in every meaning of the term.
"When does the cup-winners' match start?" asked Bartlett, as the four young men sat about the table under the veranda. "That's the one I'm interested in." "In about an hour," announced Sharwell, as he consulted a card. "Hardly any of the veterans are here yet." "Has Mr.
"Here, give him a sip of this it's brandy!" and an automobilist, who had come across the links from the nearest point to the highway, offered his flask. The major unscrewed the silver top, which formed a tiny cup, and tried to let some of the potent liquor trickle between the purplish lips of the unconscious victor in the cup-winners' match.
So, in a measure, Viola and her father were out of sympathy, as had been husband and wife before her; though there had never been a whisper of real incompatibility; nor was there now, between father and daughter. "Fore!" It was the warning cry from the first tee to clear the course for the start of the cup-winners' match.
I didn't expect to get on such a gruesome subject when we started out. By the way, speaking of killings, I expect to make a neat one to-day on this cup-winners' match." "How? I didn't know there was much betting." "Oh, but there is; and I've picked up some tidy odds against our friend Carwell. I'm taking his end, and I think he's going to win." "Better be careful, Gerry.
"Perhaps you'd like to come for a little spin with me, Miss Carwell," said the captain. "I just heard that they've postponed the cup-winners' match an hour; and unless you want to sit around here " "Come on!" cried Viola, impulsively. "It's too perfect a day to sit around, and I'm only interested in my father's match."
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