rdener. What did this
portend? Had the merits of my pleadings come home to the professor
when he thought them over, and was there a father's blessing inclosed
in the envelope which was being held out to me?

I opened the envelope. No, father's blessings were absent. The letter
was in the third person. Professor Derrick begged to inform Mr. Garnet
that, by defeating Mr. Saul Potter, he had qualified for the final
round of the Lyme Regis Golf Tournament, in which, he understood, Mr.
Garnet was to be his opponent. If it would be convenient for Mr.
Garnet to play off the match on the present afternoon, Professor
Derrick would be obliged if he would be at the clubhouse at half-past
two. If this hour and day were unsuitable, would he kindly arrange
others. The bearer would wait.

The bearer did wait, and then trudged off with a note, beautifully
written in the third person, in which Mr. Garnet, after numerous
compliments and thanks, begged to inform Professor Derrick that he
would be at the clubhouse at the hour mentioned.

"And," I added--to myself, not in the note--"I will give him such a
licking that he'll brain himself with a cleek."

For I was not pleased with the professor. I was conscious of a
malicious joy at the prospect of snatching the prize from him. I knew
he had set his heart on winning the tournament this year. To be
runner-up two years in succession stimulates the desire for the first
place. It would be doubly bitter to him to be beaten by a newcomer,
after the absence of his rival, the colonel, had awakened hope in him.
And I knew I could do it. Even allowing for bad luck--and I am never a
very unlucky golfer--I could rely almost with certainty on crushing
the man.

"And I'll do it," I said to Bob, who had trotted up.

I often make Bob the recipient of my confidences. He listens
appreciatively and never interrupts. And he never has grievances of
his own. If there is one person I dislike, it is the man who tries to
air his grievances when I wish to air mine.

"Bob," I said, running his tail through my fingers, "listen to me. If
I am in form this afternoon, and I feel in my bones that I shall be, I
shall nurse the professor. I shall play with him. Do you understand
the principles of match play at golf, Robert? You score by holes, not
strokes. There are eighteen holes. I shall toy with the professor,
Bob. I shall let him get ahead, and then catch him up. I shall go
ahead myself, and let him catch me up.