id="id00092"> Diagram, "The auto and the bull" 218

"What are you looking for?" 221

"Had ignited the matches" 225

"He was tall, angular, and whiskered" 237

"LaHume was shot back several yards" 245

"Grasping her by the arm I dragged her" 267

"She left for the South" 282

"Business is business" 291

"Ten up and eight to play" 297

"She rose to her feet" 307

"I cannot turn back if I would" 315

"He looked doubtfully at me" 318

"This takes the cake!" 329

"And then I saw her!" 335

"I believe I could carry it" 345

JOHN HENRY SMITH

JOHN HENRY SMITH

ENTRY No. I

Miss HARDING Is COMING

"Heard the news?" demanded Chilvers, approaching the table where
Marshall, Boyd, and I were smoking on the broad veranda of the Woodvale
Golf and Country Club. We shook our heads with contented indifference.
It was after luncheon, and the cigars were excellent.

"Where's LaHume?" grinned Chilvers. "Where's our Percy? He must hear this."

"LaHume and Miss Lawrence are out playing," languidly answered Marshall.
"What's happened? Don't prolong this suspense."

Miss Ross and Miss Dangerfield turned the corner and Chilvers saw them. Chilvers is married, but has lost none of his effervescence and consequently retains his popularity.

"Come here," he called, motioning to these two charming young ladies.
"I've got something for you! Great news; great news!"

"What is it?" asked Miss Ross, her deep-brown eyes brightening with curiosity.

"Another heiress coming!" announced Chilvers, with the bow of a jeweller displaying some rare gem "—another heiress on her way to Woodvale! This is going to be a hard season for such perennial bachelors as Smith, Boyd, Carter, and others I could name. You girls will have your work cut out when this new heiress unpacks her trunks and sets fluttering the hearts of these steel-plated golfers."

"Who is it?" impatiently demanded the chorus. Chilvers has all the arts of an actor in working for a climax.

"Miss Grace Harding; that's all!" said Chilvers.

"The famous beauty?" cried Miss Ross.

"Last season's society sensation in Paris and London?" exclaimed Miss
Dangerfield.

"Daughter of the great railway magnate?" asked Marshall.

"The one to whom Baron Torpington was reported engaged?" I added.

"You all have guessed it the first time," laughed Chilvers. "She's the only daughter of Robert L. Harding, magnate, financier, Wall Street general, the man who recently beat the pirate kings down there at their own game. How much is Harding supposed to be worth, Smith?"

"Thirty millions or so," I replied.

"Well, I wish I had the 'so.' That would keep me in golf balls for a while," Chilvers continued, turning his attention to the ladies. "What show have you unfortunate girls against a combination like that? And think of Percy LaHume! What will that poor boy do? Percy heads for the richest heiress of each season with that same mighty instinct which leads a boy to cast wistful glances at the largest cut of pie. He thought the heiresses had quit coming, and now this happens; but he has gone so far in his campaign for the hand and cheque-book of Miss Lawrence, that he cannot stop quick without dislocating his spine. I doubt if that poor little Lawrence girl will ever have more than five millions."

"Never mind Percy and his prospects," said Marshall. "Who told you that
Miss Grace Harding is coming to Woodvale?"

"Carter told me," replied Chilvers. "Carter knows them. The whole Harding family is coming, which includes Croesus, his wife, and their fair daughter, aged nineteen or thereabouts. Ah! why did I marry so soon?"

Mrs. Chilvers was standing back of him and soundly boxed his ears.

"How does it happen that the Hardings are coming here?" asked Mrs. Chilvers, when told the cause of this excitement. "Are they Mr. Carter's guests?"

"Mr. Harding is a charter member of Woodvale," I informed her. "For some unknown reason he joined the club when it started, but has never been here, and I doubt if he has ever played golf. He is the owner of the majority of the bonds issued against this clubhouse."

"I wonder if Miss Harding plays golf?" said Boyd.

"Golf is not among the list of accomplishments mentioned by those writers who pretend to know all about her," remarked Chilvers. "I have been forced to learn from a casual reading of society events that this remarkable heiress is without an equal as an equestrienne, that she paints, sings, drives a sixty-horse-power Mercedes with a skill and a courage which discourages the French chauffeurs, and does other athletic and artistic feats, but I have yet to learn that she golfs."

"I presume," I said, "that she will take up the game, and also the turf. The three Hardings doubtless will form one of those delightful family parties which add so much to the merriment of a golf course. I can shut my eyes and see them hacking their way around the links; the daughter pretty and more anxious to show off the latest Parisian golfing costumes than to replace a divot; the father determined, perspiring, and red of face, and the mother stout and always in the way."

"Isn't Mr. Smith the incorrigible woman-hater?" exclaimed Mrs. Chilvers.
"You did not talk that way before you became so infatuated with golf,
Mr. Smith."

"I am not a woman-hater," I protested, "but I—I don't like to——"

"Some day Smith will meet a fair creature on the golf links and lose his drive and his heart at the same time," declared Chilvers. "That was the way I was tripped up and carried into bondage," he added, his hand wandering to his wife's waist.

"With the exception of Mrs. Chilvers," I said, and I came very near making no exceptions, Miss Ross and Miss Dangerfield having left us—"with the exception of Mrs. Chilvers, I have yet to see the woman who shows to advantage with a golf regalia. If Miss Harding is beautiful enough to overcome the handicap which always attaches to the female golf duffer, she can give Venus odds and beat her handily."

"You will meet a golfing Venus some day," smiled Mrs. Chilvers, willing that her sex should be attacked so long as she was exempt.

"That's what he will," added Chilvers; "I'm agile, but I slipped."

"The artists who depict the woman golfer as graceful and attractive," I continued, "must draw from imagination rather than from models. In my humble opinion a woman shows to better advantage climbing a steep flight of stairs than in any possible posture in striking a golf ball."

"The ladies—God bless 'em—and keep them off the links!" muttered
Marshall.

"Why, Charlie Marshall!" exclaimed Mrs. Quivers. "I shall see