, 1921-11-10

A red-headed girl
Made a wreck out of me.
And there never was a wreck
Like the wreck she made of
mee-e-e ~
The voice that gave u%tterance to
this thrilling sentiment was deep and
full. And the man from whom the
voice came looked about as much
like a wreck as a dreadnaught just Off
the way He was somewhat over six
feet in height, had a Jack Dempsey
chest, a tanned face, blue eyes and en-
gaging smile.
His name was Howard Folwell. He
was singing as he strobe back and
forth in the basement of the River
side Country club waiting for his COM
p~anions to array themselves in golf
attire and sally forth with him to
whang the ball around the course for
an hour or two.
But though he sang and though he
seemed carefree n happy. there
really was a cloud on Folwell's life.
The cloud was the fact that Bea-
trice Jackson, holder of the women's
championship at the Riverside club,
scorned his advances and smiled
sweetly upon Lem Wheeling, rival of
Folwell in love, in business and in
golf.
Just the evening before Beatrice
had told Folwell in no uncertain
terms that she never, never, w
could care for a man who sliced his
drives and was a dub with a putter.
Which was pretty hard on Folwell
since he was all that and a little bit
more.
So it wasn't surprising that Folwell,
in singing about the girl who had
made a wreck of his career, put a
depth of feeling into the ditty that
called forth groans and yelps from
the assembled listeners.
"Say, old top" exclaimed one of
Folwell's friends, "if you put as much
time and effort into trying to cut out
your slice on your drive you'd be a
whirlwind."
"As a singer you're a wonderful golf
player and as a golfist you're a knock
out as a singer !" exclaimed another of
the men.
Whereupon Folwell turned toward
the lockers with the intention of
messing up things a bit with the play
full maulings of his two-ton paw,
~hen through a window in the base
ment he saw Beatrice pass by with
hated Lem Wheeling close beside her.
At this sight wrath rose in Folwells
heart. He saw red. He had an in
tense desire TO seize Lem by the neck
of his fancy silk shirt and rend him
asunder. And with this feeling gov
~Nerning his actions, Folwell hurried
from the basement out into the hot
un.
By this time Beatrice and Lem were
at the first tee prepared to drive off.
Beatrice, turning bach toward the
clubhouse, saw Folwell scowllng at
her.
"Hello, Hod," she cried. watch
this !"
Gracefully, efficiently, Beatrice ad-
dressed the ball and then socked 1t
down the course for a good 200 yards.
Folwell watched her sullenly. 1t
had been many a long day since he
had made a 200-yard drive.
"Now If / could only do as well as
that, or better,' sighed Folwell to him
self. "there'd be nothing to 1t she'd
be mine before the weeks over. But
1t can't be done-a dub like me can
never get good. l wish something
would happen, dawgone it'll"
Perhaps Folwell's wish was respon-
sible for it-who knows?-but at any
rate something did happen just a mo-
ment or so later, something which had
a deep and lasting effect on Folwells
future.
As Folwell stood gazing discUn-
solately after Beatrice and Lem. he
became conscious of the fact that hia
fayorite caddy was standing close to
&im. watching him with keen eyes.
Contrary to the Usual situation, this
caddy ldolized Folwell in spite of the
latter's poor playing. Always the
caddy %prophesled a brilliant future for
Folwell at the ancient game of golf,
provided only he could get the proper
amount of confidence in his own
ability.
Now the caddy came close and
whispered to Folwell m~ysteriously.
"Say. you can beat out that guy.
/ got the dope. My brothers an
inventor. sect He's invented n vacuum
golf ball. It's almost as light as air,
I'm go II mile II you hit It an easy
swat. You use this ball. Show up
this Wheeling guy. Win the dame,
See7"
"Huh?" gasped Folwell, in great as,
constituent.
"You hold me-you hold me % ex'
claimed the caddy. "T1l tee II up
for you. Then you hit it-just nice
an easy. Don't strain. Just watch
It go. Nobody can stop IT,"
The caddy's excitement and en-
thuslnsm communicated themselves 10
Folwell. In Intense hopefulness he