y by the game! Has he holed out and gone on, or is he by any chance
in that bunker?"

He hurried forward, now thinking only of the chase; and as he drew
nearer he heard curious sounds proceeding from the grave of so many
hopes. Voluble, emphatic and distinct utterance in an alien tongue
floated through the abashed ether, and with a sigh of relief Lionel
approached and stood on the brink of the pit.

It was a deep sandy hollow, shored up on the farther side with stout
banks of timber, and at the bottom stood the ambassador cursing his
ball. So intent was he on this futile but human act, that he did not
observe his audience above. Lionel stood and watched, not ill-pleased
that an aged arbiter of the peace of nations could on occasion show some
feeling, real if regrettable. Presently the exasperated diplomat ceased
his objurgations, swung his niblick once more and tried to get out. He
struck once and the ball bounded heartily against the timbers, falling
back at his very feet. He smote again and a shower of stinging sand
whipped sharply in his face. "_Whee!_" he said distinctly, and Lionel's
cheek tingled in sympathy. He swung a third time and with neat precision
played a flint-stone well on the green, laying it dead. Being a man of
obvious determination, though limited skill, he tried again, and yet
once more. Then, with uncouth barbaric cries, which Lionel rightly
guessed to be in the Turkish language, he lashed flail-wise at the ball.
It rolled, leaped, hopped--grew vivid with excitement, but still it
never left the bunker.

He gave it up at last. This cunning diplomat, this indomitable
statesman, was obliged to own himself defeated. Picking up the ball, he
deliberately took a knife from his pocket and tried to cut it in half.
This proving impossible, he flung it away, resolved that nevermore
should he be troubled with this particular disturber of the peace. Then
with a resolute quiet action, he broke his niblick across his knee.
Lionel, hoping to get into conversation, left his eyrie and joined him
in the pit.

"My turn now, sir!" he said with a fictitious cheerfulness. "I hoped the
green was twenty yards closer. This is a beastly place to get out of."

It was a false move. Had he waited till the other had done a hole in
three, or at least made one good approach, Lionel might have found him
good-humored, conversational, entertaining. But at the moment he was not
himself. With a contemptuous "_Allez au diable!_" th