Arizona republican., 1911-06-27
- By John Campbell Haywood.
Copyright, 1910, by the Pearson Pub
 fishing Co)

D history, but they have-they have" he repeated, and one that I want to incor- porate in the book of folklore have in preparation, but l want to substantiate it ! l want to bring 1t in as strengthened by a personal experience of my own. You know the tale Of the phantom dory of Thatcher's Island, the Gloucester people tell about l saw that myself, night after night"
 Ii was impossible for Hartley to under estimate the esrneStness of 1horne; he liked 1t, but his own feelings were not shaken. He had travelled extensively; he loved ali legends for their poetic imagery, and he liked to read without irving to be- lleve. In his travels he had seen many examples of occult mysticism, had seen them exposed or heard them explained He was convinced that every apparent visitation from the spirit world was capa- ble of materiahstic interpretation.
 Thorne understood thoroughly these views of his friend without sharing them, and so was loath to go more fully into the tale of the Gray People" es he had heard and understoodit To a man of his nature, however, the indifference, amounting al- most to ridicule, of Hartley was irritating.
 "l wish 1 could convince yOu," he be- gan. Tt seems so much easier to believe 8 tale that many tell Shan to think people gullible and foolish"
 Hartley reached for the decanter, slowly and methodically mixed himself a drink, and then asked: c
 If there IS a yarn that will not strain your imagination in the telling, tell it, but do not pin me down to any belief in iti"
 "I didn't invent it Thorne answered quickly. ''I can only tell you the common talk amongst the settlers. Shall I? Would 1t really interest yol?"
 Fire awayi I'll be interested if uncon- vinced"
 ''It was probably forty wears ago. when a Scotchman travelling through this coun- try first noticed tha: the Downs were a natural golf links. From the day Dugal Macferson saw them they have not been touched as to formation: in fact. but Q little cutting of the bushes and seeding of the putting greens was needed 10 make the perfect course it is to-day You can im- agine, therefore, the impressions of the man, born golfer. when his eyes lit upon an undoubted golf course SO far from his home greens.
 There was no golfin orabout these parts at that time. The game had made no start V that golf took hold upon the American people. But MacfersOn was. as I haze said. golfer, one of the Tom Morris school, and the sight of this natural course stirred in hiln sll the blood 0f 9 generation Oi golfers IL wls not long before hc had holes made in tko smoother greens for prt- ting, and win triver and brassie and cleek was making solitary rounds. to the wonder nf hn alx -ls l.,-, would not play. One day he went back to the village with a strange tale of otllcT players, a man and a woman. The players had come out of the mist when he was look ing for lost ball in the gully at the second hole. He had called to them and they had not answered. Then he had gone toward them and had seen that they were not of his day or of his people. They were dressed Tn gray. but it was not style of dress he knew. The man had loose cloak that opened with the swing of his stride and showed a frilled shirt, topping brooches, with buckles at the knee buckles which glinted in the wet fog. hanging over her shoulder by bread ribbon. A mass of tangled hair hid her face and sine wore a mantle of gray SD iong tt. They played golf, bat with shabeless clubs. and balls that gleamed dully in the air with pale phosphorescence"
 It was old Nathaniel Curtis. the inn keeper, who sounded the deeps of the Scotchman's tale.
 "Who were they" Inc asked. sternly Then without waiting for reply con tinued, looking about him at the little at. h.a hC. .tS < not tell No man canl But I say tive ye've seen the Gray People' Nc've seen the same as many a man hez afore ye. but there's no man afore this as hcz said they were playin' game! Are ye sure cf this?"
 Man" it is said the Scotchmaa an- swered, "wull ye say a canna tell tgame O gOwf? dinna ken who the Gray Folks are, but a brasSiel Ladi An g braw approach tae tn grepn-HOotl" "The Gray People have walked the Downs for years. Many a farmer has seen 'em, aye an many man kep' away from them same Downs for fear O the sight O them. 'Tis said by some that they never go west O the meadow that leads to the green pit, but that they go into the pitt Itft CllcS Dil utd4ti. NiltS ludl StfllN and hindered the breath O ,ham that heardl"
 "I'm trying" said Thorne, at this point, to give you an idea of the reception of the Scotchman's tale st the inn and to repeat. as it has been repeated to me a score of times, the conversation that ensued. The townsfolks, you see, knew of the Gray People It was the Scotchman who dis covered they were golfers"
 "Go on" answered Hartley. "Tell it your own way! What happened next?"
 "Then," went on Thorne, .'the inn keeper asked the Scotchman if he had followed them any part of the way"
 "Im no fu!" Macferson replied. "'Tis no ma way tae be following speeritsl"
 'Tis well it isn't" Curtis Wild told him, there's deaths laid to their doorl" With this statement made as impressive as possible and allowed to sink in, he con tinued, ''ye speak O little balls they played with There's them as says balls O fire can be seen O nights risin' an fallin' on the Downs. Like as not 'tis the Gray ones out Dye remember Rogers?"
 The innkeeper's sudden question was answered by a solemn nod of assent from one or two.
 "Rogers," went on the innkeeper. lost a sheen an lOokinp for If late one ,igpt b,.