either could have reached the green, they did
not stop to search on the way to it. Still, when they arrived there each
of them was obviously astonished by the discovery that the other had
holed out once more. Even had the distance been less, it seemed to them
that this was stretching the long arm of coincidence almost too far, but
they did not say so; in fact, they both thought it wiser to abstain from
any comment at all. The next hole was some three hundred and fifty
yards, with several extremely tricky hazards, but, contrary to all
reasonable expectations, both King Sidney and the Marshal distinguished
themselves by doing it in one.

At this the King felt bound to make some comment. "Very even game this,
Marshal, so far," he said.

"Very even indeed, Sire!" said the Marshal curtly, and turned aside to
curse under his breath.

However, after they had played the fourth and fifth holes with precisely
the same result, King Sidney became suspicious. "Clarence, my boy," he
said, taking him aside. "It strikes me there's something rather odd
about his play. I can't understand it!"

"_I_ can," said Clarence; "it's plain enough. Haven't you noticed he's
been using a mashie--the _same_ mashie every time? Well, he's bribed or
bullied that pop-eyed little swine of an Astrologer to enchant it for
him--that's what _he's_ done!"

"What a confounded low, ungentlemanly trick!" spluttered King Sidney in
high indignation. "Just when I was beginning to find my form at last,
too! I shall decline to go on with the match. And what's more, when we
_do_ get a Golf Club started, I'll have him blackballed for it!"

"I wouldn't make a row about it if I were you," advised Clarence.

"Not make a row? When he's taking an unfair advantage of me by using
this infernal Magic?--which is unlawful, by Gad, don't you forget
_that_! Why shouldn't I denounce such trickery?"

"Because," said the Crown Prince, "he might say something disagreeable
about it being a case of Pot and Kettle, don't you know."

"Let him!" cried the King. "Let him! I defy him to prove that I've had
anything done to _my_ clubs!"

"Not the clubs," said Clarence; "it's those balls I gave you. I hadn't
meant to tell you, but p'raps I'd better now. I paid that little sweep
to put a spell on 'em. Of course I'd no idea he'd go and overdo it like
this. If he'd been anything of a Golfer he'd have known most of these
holes couldn't be done under three or four. And now he's given you