m pockets which seemed inexhaustible, and gave
them to the railroad men, and I furiously smoked a pipe and put in a
word whenever I had a chance. It was an informal and glorious reunion.

The wires were working to Woodvale, communication having been made while
we stood there, and the conductor was honoured that he had the privilege
to hold the train while the famous Robert L. Harding sent a reassuring
telegram to his wife.

It was nearly two o'clock when we arrived in Woodvale. I asked Mr.
Harding how near the tornado came to the Oak Cliff club house.

"Smith," he said, laying his hand on my arm, "it passed so close that I
could have driven a golf ball into it, and I was tempted to try. That's
the best chance I'll have to get a long carry."

ENTRY NO. XX

FAT EWES AND SHARP KNIVES

At last I have the spare time in which to bring this diary up to date,
but where shall I begin?

One romance is ended. It was very pretty and interesting while it
lasted, but all things must have an end, especially flirtations.

Miss Olive Lawrence has left Woodvale. The season has only started, but
she confided to Miss Dangerfield that she was wearied with golf and
Woodvale. So with a smile to all, and having settled in full with
Wallace for a dozen or more lessons she left for the south with an
assortment of trunks which tested the capacity of the baggage car.

I feel rather sorry for Wallace, though I give him credit for enough
sense to have realised that her interest in him could amount to nothing
more than a desire to amuse herself. It does not speak well for
fascinating qualities for our Woodvale gallants that Miss Lawrence
selected this unknown outsider even as a target on which to practise
flirtation archery, but, in common with most men, it is beyond my ken to
fathom the caprices of a pretty woman.

[Illustration: "She left for the South"]

Wallace says nothing, but I can see that he takes it to heart. He spends
most of his spare time at Bishop's, but attends strictly to his
business. He is the best professional we have ever had, and it is
fortunate for the club that he did not gain the fair prize which many of
us thought was within his grasp.

I have won the "Harding Trophy!"

Carter and I played for it last Thursday. I had absolute confidence that
I should win, and when Miss Harding smilingly told me that she was
"pulling for me," I had no more doubt that I could win than I had that I
was alive. We had the l