failed to reach the green he did not mind;
he did not care if he lost.

When they reached the green, they found that Sprague's ball had stymied
Ricordo's--that is to say, it lay on the green on a straight line
between Ricordo's ball and the hole.

"Will you either play out, or pick up your ball, signore?" said Ricordo
quietly. "I believe it is the law that there are no stymies in a
three-ball match."

He said this because Sprague stood waiting for him to play.

"If it _is_ a stymie, certainly," he said, almost angrily.

"Look for yourself," said the stranger.

Sprague looked. "Very well, I'll play it out," he said.

He cast a hasty glance around, and saw that Olive Castlemaine and
Herbert Briarfield had moved to the edge of the green and were watching
the contest.

Sprague measured the distance carefully, then seizing the putter he
played. The ball rolled to the lip of the hole, and stopped. His heart
almost ceased to beat. Then perhaps a blade of grass bent or a breath of
wind stirred--anyhow, the ball dropped into the hole.

Ricordo laughed pleasantly. "Ah, we halve it, I see," he said.

"It will take you all your time to do that," said Sprague triumphantly.

His words had scarcely escaped his lips when Signor Ricordo's ball came
rolling across the green.

"Too lively," thought Purvis; but he was mistaken. It came straight to
the hole and dropped in.

They heard some one clapping on the edge of the green; it was Herbert
Briarfield, who had been watching.

"We will play it out another day," said Sprague.

Signor Ricordo walked away towards the spot where Herbert Briarfield and
Olive Castlemaine stood. His eyes had half closed again, while the old
air of cynical melancholy manifested itself in his face.

CHAPTER XXII

SIGNOR RICORDO AND OLIVE

"That was a fine putt of yours, signore; did you win the match?" said
Herbert Briarfield, as he came up.

"No, it was only halved. The game has to be played out yet."

"Signore, let me introduce you to Miss Castlemaine, to whose goodness we
owe these links."

Olive looked at him eagerly. She half held out her hand, but the
stranger did not offer to take it. He bowed low, placing his right hand
on his fez; but he did not lift it.

"I am greatly honoured," he said, in low tones, and Briarfield thought
he detected an accent which he had not noticed before.

"You are enjoying your visit here, signore, I hope," said Olive, looking
towards him curio