t there unless fortified by some strong stimulant, and turned back
to the Club-house to obtain it. He always went dead-lame when beaten at
golf, while Captain Puffin was lame in any circumstances, and the two,
no longer on speaking terms, hobbled into the Club-house, one after the
other, each unconscious of the other's presence. Summoning his last
remaining strength Major Flint roared for whisky, and was told that,
according to regulation, he could not be served until six. There was
lemonade and stone ginger-beer.... You might as well have offered a
man-eating tiger bread and milk. Even the threat that he would instantly
resign his membership unless provided with drink produced no effect on a
polite steward, and he sat down to recover as best he might with an old
volume of _Punch_. This seemed to do him little good. His forced
abstemiousness was rendered the more intolerable by the fact that
Captain Puffin, hobbling in immediately afterwards, fetched from his
locker a large flask full of the required elixir, and proceeded to mix
himself a long, strong tumblerful. After the Major's rudeness in the
matter of the half-crown, it was impossible for any sailor of spirit to
take the first step towards reconciliation.

Thirst is a great leveller. By the time the refreshed Puffin had
penetrated half-way down his glass, the Major found it impossible to be
proud and proper any longer. He hated saying he was sorry (no man more)
and wouldn't have been sorry if he had been able to get a drink. He
twirled his moustache a great many times and cleared his throat--it
wanted more than that to clear it--and capitulated.

"Upon my word, Puffin, I'm ashamed of myself for--ha!--for not taking my
defeat better," he said. "A man's no business to let a game ruffle him."

Puffin gave his alto cackling laugh.

"Oh, that's all right, Major," he said. "I know it's awfully hard to
lose like a gentleman."

He let this sink in, then added:

"Have a drink, old chap?"

Major Flint flew to his feet.

"Well, thank ye, thank ye," he said. "Now where's that soda water you
offered me just now?" he shouted to the steward.

The speed and completeness of the reconciliation was in no way
remarkable, for when two men quarrel whenever they meet, it follows that
they make it up again with corresponding frequency, else there could be
no fresh quarrels at all. This one had been a shade more acute than
most, and the drop into amity again was a shade more prec