"Nobody does. There have been complaints
on all sides."
"I mean, when you told him how you intended to get the ball out of the
car."
"What was the matter with him?"
"He was too--ha!"
"How do you mean he was too--ha?"
"I have it!"
"What?"
"I see the trap he was laying for you. It has just dawned on me. No
wonder he didn't object to your opening the door and chipping the ball
out. By doing so you would forfeit the match."
"Nonsense! Why?"
"Because," I said, "it is against the rules to tamper with a hazard. If
you had got into a sand-bunker, would you smooth away the sand? If you
had put your shot under a tree, could your caddie hold up the branches
to give you a clear shot? Obviously you would disqualify yourself if
you touched that door."
Arthur's jaw dropped.
"What! Then how the deuce am I to get it out?"
"That," I said, gravely, "is a question between you and your Maker."
It was here that Arthur Jukes forfeited the sympathy which I had begun
to feel for him. A crafty, sinister look came into his eyes.
"Listen!" he said.
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