"Do you realize, Pickings, what it means to me to have lost those two
strokes on the fourth and sixth greens, and through no fault of mine,
neither? Even threes for the whole course--that's what I could do if I
had those two strokes--the greatest thing that's ever been seen on a
golf-course. It may be a hundred years before any human being on the
face of this earth will get such a chance. And to think I might have
done it with a little luck!"
Pickings felt his heart begin to pump, but he was able to say with some
degree of calm:
"You may get a three here."
"Never. Four, three and four is what I'll end."
"Well, good heavens! what do you want?"
"There's no joy in it, though," said Booverman, gloomily. "If I had
those two strokes back, I'd go down in history, I'd be immortal. And
you, too, Picky, you'd be immortal, because you went around with me. The
fourth hole was bad enough, but the sixth was heartbreaking."
His drive cleared another swamp and rolled well down the farther
plateau. A long cleek laid his ball off the green, a good approach
stopped a little short of the hole, and the put went down.
Pages:
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198