Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1901-07-07
KEEP YOUR BLOOD CLEAN

fair shares of that sort OF blood which,
for lack of better name, Is called
sporting blood"-the blood which
makes a man want to bet continually
on all sorts of things. They were con-
tanned busi ness men, even though they
were golfers and in love, and they re-
allied that the dear old days have gone
forever. They we're not at lierty 10
call each other out and shoot EACH
other with large bored pistols, or to
whack each other with extremely heavy
swords. In the mind of Smith and IA
the mind OF Jones the pursuit OF Mrs.
Dacres resolved itself into betting
proposition. Arriving simultaneously
at this conclusion, they were not long
In getting together 1t happened In
the club bar in the noon OF an on day,
when there was not another member
about, except Willie Wimble, aged 70,
TO whom no one ever paid any atten-
ton and who did not count.
Have high ball, Smith," said Jones
with cordially.
Thanks" said Smith, taking a seat
at the opposite side of the small table.
81 never drink. It's bad for golf. Have
a cigar"
Thanks! never smoke. 1t makes
foozles."
cr,;.h IooLad at Tomas JOnee looked
at Smith. Smith said aggressively:
my score for the eighteen holes is
ST."
Yes, / know" Jones replied, airily.
"That was two years ago. You were
not smoking then, believe"
"The score said Smith. with pain
full distinctness and slowness. was
made in the spring of the present year
and was smoking when l felt like
smoking. Your own record was made,
l am told, in 1895. when the course was
new and putting was guesswork."
Jones said Not at all so. Not at
all So" He ordered high ball. Smith
said "Humph." and lighted a cigar.
Jones, as becomes a man in pork, was
slightly more rash.
well" he said finally, having drain
ed his glass and pushed it from him,
this isn't buying the baby a frock.
Haven't you anything to propose?"
The cautious Smith answered: What
are you talking about?"
Jones glanced around him carefully.
saw no one, except Wimple, who sat
twenty feet away, slipping a lemonade,
and said, lowering his voice:
About the littde wid-about Mrs.
Dacres, you know. There isn't any use
in our hanging on in each others way.
One of us must drop out Of the running.
Make it any sort of bet you will. I'm
agreeable"
Smith thought deeply. He had tall
receding forehead and when he thought
wrinkles came thickly to his bald
brow. He rose. walked to the bar coun-
ter, asked for two Jumps Of sugar, re-
turned, gave one of them to Jones and
placed the other on the table.
PUT down your sugar." he said. If
fly lights first on your lump, drop
out You the same"
They stared at the sugar for thirty
minutes. There was a slight buzzing,
tow flies appeared, and lowered above
the Jumps tentatively. The men held
their breaths. Jones had grown red;
Smith had grown pale. The flies sud
denly made up their minds, dived
downward and alighted, each upon a
lump, at the same instant. Willie VIM
pie, who had drawn near, much inter-
ested, cracked shrilly and said:
Dead heat" Smith looked up and
snarled:
What have you got to do with
thls?"
Nothing, nothing" said Wimple has
tily. II used to do that when I was
little fellow. suppose you chaps
were tempting the flies for drinks?"
Eyes. of course" broke in Jones
Run along now, Willie. while We try
something else"
Wimple disappeared. Dice were
brought. and they shook skies each.
lhey tried 1t again, and shook deuces
each. they tried it again, and shook
fives each; gave it up. Wrought to des-
peration, they went out to the lawn
anu, after much exertion and perspira-
ton in the boiling sun, captured two
grasshoppers. They brought them in,
drew a straight line, set the insects
with their beaks to the line, and poked
them with a straw. Neither would jump
an inch. They killed the grasshoDpers
Jones ordered a high-ball; Smith ci-
gar. Theywere afraid OF each others
game, but there was nothing for it but
the golf. Jones drank another high
ball and said flercely:
Play you one round Of eighteen
holes."
Smith grew even paler, and mis- cigar
wabbled. but he answered: "Done!"
The face OF Willie Wimple. which had
been glued to the screen Of an open
win Snuv SrcLod ont ~ cjUht CodHioa