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Updated: June 3, 2025
"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.
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.
LaHume was conscious but completely dazed. We were much relieved when the doctor said that he was not permanently injured. Ordering two of the servants to take LaHume to the club house and put him to bed, Doctor Barry turned his attention to Wallace.
I looked for LaHume and saw him stalking toward the club house. Someone clutched me by the sleeve, and I looked into the beautiful and happy eyes of Miss Lawrence. "Wasn't it glorious!" she said. "Isn't he a splendid player! Did you ever see anything like that tenth hole? And I won! I just thought I should scream when Mr. Wallace lay dead for a five on this hole!"
Marshall was second with an eighty-two, Boyd and LaHume were tied with eighty-four each, and I came in fifth with one more. Chilvers, Pepper, and Thomas also qualified, but the cup should lie among the first five.
It went high and to the left, and for a moment I was sure it would not clear the fence, but it did, dropping in as thick a clump of swamp grass as can be found in Woodvale. It left him fully one hundred and fifty yards from the cup. It-was a most disappointing shot, and I instinctively turned and looked at LaHume. That young gentleman was satisfied beyond measure.
Carter, LaHume, Marshall, and Chilvers admitted that their idea of hard cider was a beverage which had started to ferment. Bishop placed his hand reverently on a blackened, time-charred cask. It was evident he was as proud of that possession as others might be of an authenticated Raphael. "I don't tap this here very often," he said, "but in honour of this occasion I'll let it run a bit.
"It's only a scratch on the scalp. Miss Lawrence is more alarmed than I am injured. I assure you it is nothing." "LaHume struck him with a knife!" exclaimed Miss Lawrence, recovering her nerve as a wave of anger came to her. "He called Mr. Wallace a coward and a cad, and when Mr. Wallace tried to calm him he struck at him with a knife. Oh, I hope you have killed him!"
At this instant our hostess arose, giving the signal that the dinner was ended, and we adjourned to the lawn. LaHume said something to Miss Lawrence; she laughed scornfully, and left him and joined Miss Harding. After cigars and pipes we inspected the new red barn. It is a huge structure, modern in every particular, and Bishop was properly proud of it.
The "hired man" was as well dressed as any gentleman in the room, and I have never seen a more graceful dancer than that tall, young Scotchman. LaHume watched him like a hawk. When Wallace claimed Miss Lawrence for a schottische the glum LaHume stood by the door and looked as if he would rather fight than dance. Chilvers told him he was making an ass of himself.
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