“What is that little flag?” he asked.
“It is connected, I believe, in some way,” the man answered, “with a game of which Mrs. Peterson is very fond. I believe that it indicates the locality of a small hole.”
“Golf?” Mr. Sabin exclaimed.
“That is the name of the game, sir,” the man answered. “I had forgotten it for the moment.”
Mr. Sabin tried the window.
“I want to get out,” he said.
The man opened it.
“If you are going down there, sir,” he said, “I will send James Green to meet you. Mrs. Peterson is so fond of the game that she keeps a Scotchman here to look after the links and instruct her.”
“This,” Mr. Sabin murmured, “is the most extraordinary thing in the world.”