"The match is now all square," said Kitts as he started for the third tee.
"And squared by a couple of petty larceny protests!" said Windy. "Hey, Mister Bookworm, wait a minute! I want to tell you something for your own good!"
"Oh, play golf!" said Kitts, over his shoulder.
Windy strode after him and took him by the arm. It wasn't a gentle grasp either.
"That's exactly what I want to say. You play golf, Mr. Kitts! Play it with your clubs, and forget that book in your hip pocket. If you pull it on me again, I'll—I'll——"
Adolphus tried to smile, but it was a sickly effort.
"You can't intimidate me," said he.
"Maybe not," said Windy, quite earnestly, "but I can lick you within an inch of your life—and I will. Is there anything in the book about that? If you read me out of this cup, you better make arrangements to have it sent direct to the hospital. It'll make a nice flower holder—if you've got any friends that think enough of you to send flowers!"
"You gentlemen are witnesses to these threats," said Kitts, appealing to the gallery.
"We didn't hear a word," said Cupid. "Not a word. Go on and play your match and stop squabbling. You act like a couple of fishwives!"