'I shan't be after this hole.'

He was right. Alexander won it in five, one above bogey, and regained

the honour.

Mitchell was a trifle shaken. His play no longer had its first careless

vigour. He lost the next hole, halved the sixth, lost the short

seventh, and then, rallying, halved the eighth.

The ninth hole, like so many on our links, can be a perfectly simple

four, although the rolling nature of the green makes bogey always a

somewhat doubtful feat; but, on the other hand, if you foozle your

drive, you can easily achieve double figures. The tee is on the farther

side of the pond, beyond the bridge, where the water narrows almost to

the dimensions of a brook. You drive across this water and over a

tangle of trees and under-growth on the other bank. The distance to the

fairway cannot be more than sixty yards, for the hazard is purely a

mental one, and yet how many fair hopes have been wrecked there!

Alexander cleared the obstacles comfortably with his customary short,

straight drive, and Mitchell advanced to the tee.

I think the loss of the honour had been preying on his mind. He seemed

nervous. His up-swing was shaky, and he swayed back perceptibly. He

made a lunge at the ball, sliced it, and it struck a tree on the other

side of the water and fell in the long grass. We crossed the bridge to

look for it; and it was here that the effect of Professor Rollitt began

definitely to wane.

'Why on earth don't they mow this darned stuff?' demanded Mitchell,

querulously, as he beat about the grass with his niblick.

'You have to have rough on a course,' I ventured.

'Whatever happens at all,' said Millicent, 'happens as it should. Thou

wilt find this true if thou shouldst watch narrowly.'

'That's all very well,' said Mitchell, watching narrowly in a clump of

weeds but seeming unconvinced. 'I believe the Greens Committee run this

bally club purely in the interests of the caddies. I believe they

encourage lost balls, and go halves with the little beasts when they

find them and sell them!'

Millicent and I exchanged glances. There were tears in her eyes.

'Oh, Mitchell! Remember Napoleon!'

'Napoleon! What's Napoleon got to do with it? Napoleon never was

expected to drive through a primeval forest. Besides, what did Napoleon

ever do? Where did Napoleon get off, swanking round as if he amounted

to something? Poor fish! All he ever did was to get hammered at

Waterloo!'

Alexander rejoined us. He had walked on to where his ball lay.

'Can't find it, eh? Nasty bit of rough, this!'

'No, I can't find it. But tomorrow some miserable, chinless,

half-witted reptile of a caddie with pop eyes and eight hundred and

thirty-seven pimples will find it, and will sell it to someone for

sixpence! No, it was a brand-new ball. He'll probably get a shilling

for it. That'll be sixpence for himself and sixpence for the Greens

Committee. No wonder they're buying cars quicker than the makers can

supply them. No wonder you see their wives going about in mink coats

Вы читаете The Clicking of Cuthbert
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