Once there, he would play the orthodox
game by driving his ball along till he reached the bridge. While Arthur
was winding along the high road, Ralph would have cut off practically
two sides of a triangle. And it was hopeless for Arthur to imitate his
enemy's tactics now. From where his ball lay he would have to cross a
wide tract of marsh in order to reach the seventeenth fairway--an
impossible feat. And, even if it had been feasible, he had no boat to
take him across the water.
He uttered a violent protest. He was an unpleasant young man,
almost--it seems absurd to say so, but almost as unpleasant as Ralph
Bingham; yet at the moment I am bound to say I sympathized with him.
"What are you doing?" he demanded. "You can't play fast and loose with
the rules like that."
"To what rule do you refer?" said Ralph, coldly.
"Well, that bally boat of yours is a hazard, isn't it? And you can't
row a hazard about all over the place."
"Why not?"
The simple question seemed to take Arthur Jukes aback.
"Why not?" he repeated. "Why not? Well, you can't.
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