"Hello there, Carter!" shouted Harding. "Come on and play with us! This is my first real game, and we'll make it a foursome, or whatever you call it. What d'ye say?"
"That's fine!" declared Carter.
I happen to know that he had already made up a game with Marshall, Boyd, and Chilvers, but he did not hesitate to abandon them for his long-coveted chance to play with Miss Harding.
"We'll have a great game," asserted Mr. Harding mopping his brow. "How shall we divide up? I suppose you're the best player, Carter, and Smith comes next, but I can beat the Kid, here," patting Miss Harding on the shoulder.
"I'll bet you cannot," I declared, angry that he should class Carter above me.
"Bet I cannot beat my Grace?" he exclaimed. I told him that such was my opinion.
"Of course I can beat you, papa," laughed Miss Harding. "You have never played, and know nothing of the game. I can beat you easily."
"Talk of the insolence and ingratitude of children!" he gasped. "Kid, I'm astonished at you! I'll teach both of you a lesson. What do you want to bet, Smith?"
I suggested that a box of balls would suit me as a bet.
"Box of monkeys!" exclaimed Harding. "I thought you were a sport, Smith!
A box of balls don't last me as long as a box of cigarettes does Carter.
Tell you what I'll do. We'll all keep track of our shots, and for every
one I beat her you pay me a box of balls, and for every one she beats me
I pay you a box of balls. How does that strike you?"