"No; been too busy."
Dick held up his hands in mock horror, at which several of the party laughed.
"Trevanion will wipe the floor with you," he said woefully. "He's on the links at least three days a week, and he plays a good scratch game."
"Aren't you in practice, Bob?" asked Nancy, when they had a few seconds alone together.
"Scarcely played for a year."
"Then why did you challenge Captain Trevanion?"
"Because I was mad," replied Bob. "He's been trying to raise a laugh against me all the morning and so—well, there it is."
"But he'll be sure to beat you?"
"No, he won't," and there was a confident ring in his voice.
Half an hour later they had reached the Club House, and much laughter and many pleasantries were exchanged as they teed their balls. Captain Trevanion's clubs were shining, while Bob's were rusty through disuse.