Dick held up his hands in mock horror, at which several of the party laughed. "Trevanion will wipe the floor with you," he said woefully. "He's on the links at least three days a week, and he plays a good scratch game." "Aren't you in practice, Bob?" asked Nancy, when they had a few seconds alone together. "Scarcely played for a year." "Then why did you challenge Captain Trevanion?" "Because I was mad," replied Bob. "He's been trying to raise a laugh against me all the morning and so--well, there it is." "But he'll be sure to beat you?" "No, he won't," and there was a confident ring in his voice. Half an hour later they had reached the Club House, and much laughter and many pleasantries were exchanged as they teed their balls. Captain Trevanion's clubs were shining, while Bob's were rusty through disuse. "They 'a'an't a bin clained for months," said the caddy, who was vigorously rubbing them with emery paper. Captain Trevanion won the toss, and took the honour. He was a tall, athletic fellow, and showed by his practice swing that he was master of his tools. He hit his ball straight and clean, and it fell a few yards behind the great grass mound which guards the first green. Bob, on the other hand, felt nervous and awkward. He was out of practice, and knew his disadvantage. He played the ball badly, and while it cleared the rough, he had an awkward stance for his second. In playing the odd, too, he miscalculated the distance, and found himself in the rough, on the offside of the green. Captain Trevanion holed out in four and although Bob got a five, he lost the hole. "One up to the Army," laughed the Admiral. The second hole, which can easily be reached by a good iron shot, Captain Trevanion played perfectly. His ball soared over a high mountain of sand, and plumped down comfortably a few yards from the hole. Bob topped his ball, and it landed half way up the sand-hill in a bad place. Again it took him five to hole out, while Trevanion was down in three. At the third the Captain drove a perfect ball, while Bob, who though he got just as far, landed in the churchyard, out of bounds. The result was that he lost this hole also. "This is what I call a grand procession," remarked some one. "Come, Bob," laughed the Admiral, "this looks as though you will have to pay for the tea." "I hope it'll be a good one anyhow," replied Bob quietly. "I'm working up a fine appetite." At the next hole Captain Trevanion drove short, and landed in the bunker guarding the green. Bob, on the other hand, sent his ball straight and true over the guiding-post. "Fine shot," was the general remark. "Too far," said Dick Tresize. "That ball's over the green and gone down the cliff. I'd rather be where Trevanion is." He proved to be right. Bob had got into a well-nigh impossible place and lost another hole. "Beastly luck," remarked Dick. "That's not a fair hole." "Rub of the green," was all Bob said.