"It'll take them an hour to catch up with us.
Suppose, during that time, that door happened to open accidentally, as
it were, and close again? You wouldn't think it necessary to mention
the fact, eh? You would be a good fellow and keep your mouth shut, yes?
You might even see your way to go so far as to back me up in a
statement to the effect that I hooked it out with my----?"
I was revolted.
"I am a golfer," I said, coldly, "and I obey the rules."
"Yes, but----"
"Those rules were drawn up by----"--I bared my head reverently--"by the
Committee of the Royal and Ancient at St. Andrews. I have always
respected them, and I shall not deviate on this occasion from the
policy of a lifetime."
Arthur Jukes relapsed into a moody silence. He broke it once, crossing
the West Street Bridge, to observe that he would like to know if I
called myself a friend of his--a question which I was able to answer
with a whole-hearted negative. After that he did not speak till the car
drew up in front of the Majestic Hotel in Royal Square.
Early as the hour was, a certain bustle and animation already prevailed
in that centre of the city, and the spectacle of a man in a golf-coat
and plus-four knickerbockers hacking with a niblick at the floor of a
car was not long in collecting a crowd of some dimensions.
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