“Oh, yes, indeed! Just ask Algy to prove it. He always carried my bag, you see, so he was present whenever I finished the game in a few hundred strokes.” She beamed upon Algy for him to convince the young New Yorker of her skill in beating the record. And the youth, thus called upon before he could muster his wits on the proper answer to give, spoke recklessly, but he never realized it.
“Mrs. Alexander walked so much every morning, over those links, that she really weighed nine pounds less when she left the Springs. I told her it was a pity she could not carry her own golf-bag, because that would have taken off five extra pounds, I’m sure. I lost that much, and I really felt that I had no right to lose an ounce. It almost ruined my figure, losing those five pounds, you know.”
Mrs. Alexander sent Algy a second dagger-like look, but he sat smiling upon Jack, who was the one addressed. Jack was not the one to disappoint any one, and in this case he fairly reveled in entertaining those about him.
“I believe it is a real strain—to have to caddy to another. Not so bad, when one carries one’s own bag, but the fun is missed when the caddy cannot use the sticks he has to carry.”
“You’re right there!” agreed Algy. “There were plenty of paid caddies, understand, but dear Mrs. Alex. is so particular, and I had nothing else to do, you know, so we hit it off fine in golf.”
The train had been speeding on its way to Pueblo, and now the tourists saw the outlying sections of that manufacturing city come into view. La Junta would be the next stopping place on the railroad, but the tourists in the Dalken party were not so concerned about getting off the train to visit places of interest as they were in arriving at Albuquerque in time to meet the men with whom the important appointment had been made. Therefore they were going through on the sleeper.
Having left Pueblo behind, the younger members in the party took up their conversation where it had been suspended while waiting in the station. Jack launched an entirely new form of the same game.
“Your name would suggest British nationality, Mr. Alveston.”
“Aw, yes!” agreed Algy, fixing his monocle in the latest approved English manner. “My full name, you know, is Algernon Alfred Alveston. Quite unusual, don’t you think?—The initials, I mean, A. A. A.”
“I should say so!” declared Jack seriously, albeit the three girls saw a fine wrinkle at the corners of his eyes. “It reminds one of a grade of flour. In fact, I am sure I’ve seen the advertisements of the ‘Aunt Jane Pancake Flour’ with the ‘A. A. A.’ to tell the quality. I suppose that is what you refer to—the quality in your makeup, eh?”