The Golf Course Mystery | Page 9

to warrant a
declaration of love on his part was hard to understand.
"But I won't take a chance now," mused the captain, rather moodily;
and the talk descended to mere monosyllables on the part of both of
them. "I must see Carwell and have it out with him about that insurance
deal. Maybe he holds that against me, though the last time I talked with
him he gave me to understand that I'd stand a better show than Harry. I
must see him after the game. If he wins he'll be in a mellow humor,
particularly after a bottle or so. That's what I'll do."
The captain spun his car up in front of the clubhouse and helped Viola
out. "I think we are in plenty of time for your father's match," he
remarked.
"Yes," she assented. "I don't see any of the veterans on the field yet,"

and she looked across the perfect course. "I'll go to look for dad and
wish him luck. He always wants me to do that before he starts his
medal play. See you again, Captain"; and with a friendly nod she left
the somewhat chagrined yachtsman.
When Captain Poland had parked his car hetook a short cut along a
path that led through a little clump of bushes. Midway he heard voices.
In an instant he recognized them as those of Horace Carwell and Harry
Bartlett. He heard Bartlett say:
"But don't you see how much better it would be to drop it all - to have
nothing more to do with her?"
"Look here, young man, you mind your own business !" snapped Mr.
Carwell. "I know what I'm doing!"
"I haven't any doubt of it, Mr. Carwell; but I ventured to suggest?" went
on Bartlett.
"Keep your suggestions to yourself, if you please. I've had about all I
want from you and your family. And if I hear any more of your
impudent talk - "
Then Captain Poland moved away, for he did not want to hear any
more.
In the meantime Viola hurried back to the clubhouse, and forced herself
to be gay. But, somehow, a cloud seemed to have come over her day.
The throng had increased, and she caught sight, among the press, of
Jean Forette, their chauffeur.
"Have you seen my father since he arrived, Jean?" asked Viola.
"Oh, he is somewhere about, I suppose," was the answer, and it was
given in such a surly tone with such a churlish manner that Viola
flushed with anger and bit her lips to keep back a sharp retort.
At that moment Minnie Webb strolled past. She had heard the question

and the answer.
"I just saw your father going out with the other contestants, Viola," said
Minnie Webb, for they were friends of some years' standing. "I think
they are going to start to play. I wonder why they say the French are
such a polite race she went on, speaking lightly to cover Viola's
confusion caused by the chauffeur's manner. "He was positively
insulting."
"He was," agreed Viola. "But I shouldn't mind him, I suppose. He does
not like the new machine, and father has told him to find another place
by the end of the month. I suppose that has piqued him."
While there were many matches to be played at the Maraposa Club that
day, interest, as far as the older members and their friends were
concerned, was centered in that for cup-winners. These constituted the
best players - the veterans of the game - and the contest was sure to be
interesting and close.
Horace Carwell was a "sport," in every meaning of the term. Though a
man well along in his forties, he was as lithe and active as one ten years
younger. He motored, fished, played golf, hunted, and of late had added
yachting to his amusements. He was wealthy, as his father had been
before him, and owned a fine home in New York, but he spent a large
part of every year at Lakeside, where he might enjoy the two sports he
loved best-golfing and yachting.
Viola was an only child, her mother having died when she was about
sixteen, and since then Mr. Carwell's maiden sister had kept watch and
ward over the handsome home, The Haven. Viola, though loving her
father with the natural affection of a daughter and some of the love she
had lavished on her mother, was not altogether in sympathy with the
sporting proclivities of Mr. Carwell.
True, she accompanied him to his golf games and sailed with him or
rode in his big car almost as often as he asked her. And she thoroughly
enjoyed these things. But what she did not enjoy was the rather too
jovial comradeship that followed on the