Waddles pinched my arm.
"Did you get that stuff?" he breathed into my ear. "Did you get it? She threw him down—threw him down cold!"
Russell seemed to realise this, but he made a noble effort to hole the putt. A third miracle refused him, and then Beth Rogers put her ball within three inches of the cup.
"Put it down!" grunted Russell. "Sink it—and let's get it done with!"
Bill tapped the ball into the hole, and the match was over.
"Why—why," stuttered Beth, "then—we've won!"
At this point the hand-shaking began. I was privileged to hear one more exchange of remarks between the losers as they started for the clubhouse.
"We had it won—if you'd only listened to me——" Russell began.
"Ah!" said Mary, "you seem to forget that I've been listening to you all the afternoon—listening and learning!"