Evening star., 1925-03-01

hooking and slicing and topping like
any high handicap dub"
NO break came on the outgoing
nine. Locked in a tie, and so far
ahead of the rest of the field that one
OF the two was an inevitable winner
they started from the ninth green
toward the tenth tee. In the crowd
streaming by, stamping for position.
MacClosky had brief glimpse of
Louise Degan and her father. The
girls face was white with strain.
Her eyes fairly screamed a question
at him. Was he all right? Could he
stand the gaff? Go through and win :?
with savage inner effort of which
there was no outward expression, he
managed a confident nod and a reas-
suring smile.
He stole furtive side look at
Harkle. striding easily along with
the suggestion of a confident swag-
ger in his gait, the hint of @ mocking
smile on his wide lips Was the
champ feeling the strain of tho strug-
gle at all? Was he actually as pleas
antiy at ease as he appeared? To
MacCiosky his opponent appeared
suddenly as an invincible, enormous
giant, huge. towering. temporarily
towering creature. against whom it
was futile, humiliating farce, to
struggle. He felt himself tiny, cow
er1ng, shamefully ludicrous in con-
trast to this great calm, relentless
figure.
1t was his honor--his to drive first
at the 10th. No sign OF the last ditch.
spiritual battle raging within him
showed in movement or expression
as he leaned over, pinched his tee
into shape, set his ball thereon and
Strengthened up.
AS he took his stance he could feel
the quaking Of his soul begin to creep
out into his flesh. In spite of all the
repression he GOULD muster, his fln-
gers. wrapped around the Ieathern-
covered grip OF the driver, began to
tremble. He could feel them trem-
bling. It was only a matter of mo-
ments when those pitiless intent
only matter of moments until all
his world would know what he knew
that he was beaten.
AS he grounded the sole Of his club
behind the ball, preparatory to be-
ginning his back swing, the crowd at
his rear moved and murmured rude
ly, unaccountably. Thankful for an
excuse for delay, he frowned and
waited for the annoying mutter and
movement to cease.
The disturbance increased, accom-
-
mands for silence. Then a loud voice,
Me boy. Here 1 am, sonny"
|MACCLoSKY turned and saw his
mother just breaking free Of the
crowd, her arms outstretched to him.
her round, fat face. rosy with the joy
of meeting and beaded with perspira-
tion from her efforts at struggling
through the throng.
Her black silk bonnet, of a style
30 years since, clasped with antique
strings, was askew on her gray head
and the black silk dress incasing
her abundant form was rumpled and
twisted from the jostling of her i'm
petuous progress through the pack
ed gallery. Behind her MacC1osky
saw Long Jim Loughborough, his
arm outstretcbed in a futile attempt
at detention.
Me boy!" the old lady cried again
joyouSly. waddling toward him. Me
own laddiei"
Then her big arms were about him
and he was crushed tight to her gen.
erouS bosom.
MY, But don't ye look grand" she
ratified on garrulously as she stepped
back and surveyed him proudly after
a brief embrace. what would your
poor dead father be sayin' II he could
get a look at ye now? You in thin
save Loft pants and stockin's with
enough color in 'em, too Well,
an would ye look at that, too? Them
little fancy doodads hangin' from the
tops o your socks. Oh, but l have to
laugh at thin meself!"
She did so. loudly, freely. Several
in the bewildered gallery followed
suit. Others joined as the old lady
shook with mirth.
The world, his whole world, the
| world of golf, was watching and be-
ginning to laugh. The Degans, father
and daughter. were watching. They
were not laughing. They were
watching, amazed, questioning,
shocked.
White with shame, dizzy with hu-
initiation, MacClosky took his mother
by the arm. You go along with Mr..
Loughborough, mother" he said hur-
riedly. I'm busy with the game just
now. Wen have time to talk at
! lunch"
"Ah now, that's what Mr.. Loughbor-
ough toP me-" said the old lady con-
tritely-and loudly, He said to me,
'Ye can't be botherin' the boy now.
He's busy with his play An / says
to him, I says, Get along with ye,'
I says. 'Ye mean to be teilin' me I
can't have a bit of talk with me own
son that ! amt seen this last three
months. an all because he's too busy
with bit of a game? Get along with
you.' l says to Mr.. Loughborough.