the
fourteenth, both making threes on the tricky thirteenth. Wallace took
the medal lead by winning the fifteenth in another perfect three, and
the sixteenth produced fours for both of them. It was Kirkaldy's turn to
register a three on the next, this bringing them to the last hole all
square on medal score, with Kirkaldy one up on match play. It was
intensely exciting!

The eighteenth hole is 610 yards. By wonderful long work both were on
the green in three, but Kirkaldy was on the extreme far edge and away.
His approach putt was too strong, overrunning the cup by twelve feet.
Wallace laid his ball dead within six inches of the cup, and putted down
in five, one under bogy. This insured him at least a tie for the medal
score, but the match honours would go to Kirkaldy if he could hole that
long putt. We held our breaths! He went to the left by a slight margin,
halving the match by holes. Here is the card coming in:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
KIRKALDY-- 5 4 6 3 4 4 4 3 6--39
WALLACE--- 3 4 5 3 5 3 4 4 5-36

[Illustration: "LaHume ... stalking toward the club house"]

Wallace therefore won the medal round by a score of 75 against 76 for
Kirkaldy, and honours were even on holes. It was a match to make one's
blood tingle; a clean, honest contest between two clear-headed and
muscle-trained athletes.

Kirkaldy was the first to grasp Wallace's hand, and in the blue eyes of
our tried and popular golf mentor there was naught but sincere goodwill
and unaffected admiration.

"Ye'll do, my laddy, ye'll do!" Kirkaldy exclaimed. "I dinna ken who
taught ye, but he was a guede mon; a guede mon!"

As Kirkaldy's ball stopped rolling, and it was known Wallace had won the
medal score, the breathless gallery found their voices and gave vent to
their feelings. The silent and motionless circle came to life, and, as
it were, exploded toward its centre. We found ourselves in the vortex of
cheering men, laughing girls, fluttering 'kerchiefs, and the excited
clatter of a hundred voices.

I looked for LaHume and saw him stalking toward the club house. Someone
clutched me by the sleeve, and I looked into the beautiful and happy
eyes of Miss Lawrence.

"Wasn't it glorious!" she said. "Isn't he a splendid player! Did you
ever see anything like that tenth hole? And I won! I just thought I
should scream when Mr. Wallace lay dead for a five on this hole!"

"Say, he's all right, eh, Smith!" said Mr. Har