The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1910-07-29

what he had been an hour before. He no longer seemed to be playing a game upon which nothing de- pended, but to be struggling for a great victory in life. His eyes were no longer half closed, and the old expression of cynical indifference was gone. A few seconds later his ball fell within six yards of the pin.
 Neither of the players uttered a sound; but the boys could not SUD- press their admiration.
 You are six up at the turn, sig nore.' remarked Ricordo to Sprague. That is odds against one; but moi verreme."
 tee. It was the first hole he had lost to the foreigner, and although his position seemed well-pigh impreg- nable, he had a fear of losing. He felt as though he were not playing with a man, but with fate.
 Ricordo took the honor. The green was over two hundred yards away, but he landed his ball safely on it. Sprague drove next; he fail ed to reach it by more than thirty yards. Purvis fared no better. Again Ricordo won the hole.
 Five up, and eight to play" he laughed pleasantly.a II cannot afford to make any mistakes, signore."
 Ding, dong, went the balls. When they had played the seventeenth hole. Ricordo had actually placed himself one up on Purvis. and was all square with Sprague. The game was to be finished on the last green.
 ':Ah. I like that" said Ricordo lightly. Life is never interesting when everything is settled early in the game, eh, MT. Sprague? And everything is worth so much more when we win by a single bold stroke, eh?'
 Why it was, Sprague could not tell, but his heart beat faster than was its wont. An atmosphere of grim earn estness possessed him, and more, g fear filled his heart. After having the game in his hands he was in danger of losing it. Not that he had played badly. In nearly every case he had been level with bogey, but then in nearly every case for the last nine holes the stranger had beateT him by a stroke. Yes, he was angry The man had commenced as a be- ginner, he had thrown away his chances, and yet he had recovered all the ground he had lost. More than once he caught himself watch which surmounted his face made him look sinister. The black beard and moustache covered his mouth but he fancied a mocking smile play ing around his lips. The man .im- pressed him as 8 mystery. Some times he found himself thinking o1 him as an Englishman, but agaiI strange fancies fitted through hi. mind concerning him. He pictured him away in desert places. dreaming of dark things. ,'-=ea<
 Anyhow, I can't win,'' said Pur wis. "The best I can do is to halv. the match with you. MT. Ricordo." But I have a chance of winning, said Sprague. By the way, signore we've had nothing on the game What do you say to stake on thi hole?"
 ''No. MT. Sprague. I never play fo, stakes, except the stake of life" What do you mean?" "A game is always more than { game to me. It has destiny in it Thus we are playing for stakes. grea stakes"
 What are they?"
 'Ah, who can tell? Perhaps fo, heaven, perhaps for he'll"
 "Oh, I say.''
 They were now standing on tn, eighteenth tee, and the green wa near the clubhouse. Close to tn flag they saw woman and a man
 "Do you know who that is on tn green" Ricordo asked of. the cadd. who had made his tee and was mov ing away.
 (Continued on page twelve.)