“You can’t do anything with that sweater, Curt,” he said. “It binds your arms too much. It isn’t cold to-day. Leave your sweater here.” “But I haven’t any vest on!” “You don’t need a vest. That’s it. Hello! where’s your belt?” “I wear suspenders,” Kendall replied. “So I see. Take ’em off and I’ll find a belt for you. Here’s one of Teller’s.” “Won’t he mind my using it?” asked Kendall doubtfully as he removed his suspenders. “He will esteem it an honor,” answered Ned gravely. “There you are. Slip your coat on again. Isn’t that more comfortable? Now, about shoes.” “These are all right; they’re quite easy.” “They look it! Never mind, I guess they’ll have to do. I haven’t an extra pair. Now then, come along.” Kendall had hoped that they would find the links deserted, since he didn’t at all fancy making a public display of his awkwardness and ignorance, but he was doomed to disappointment. At least a half-dozen couples were making the rounds, while four or five fellows were loitering about the first tee. One of them was the boy who had talked with Ned at the football game. He was George Kirk, a good-looking Second Class fellow. Kirk brandished a golf club and hailed Ned with joy. “Want to play a round, Ned?” he shouted as they approached. “Thanks, George, but I’m going to show Burtis here something about the game. You fellows ever met?” They shook hands, Kirk very affably. He showed no surprise at Ned’s announcement. In fact, he felt none, for he had become quite used to Ned’s vagaries. “Mind if I go around with you?” he asked of Kendall. Kendall hesitated and glanced at Ned. The latter shook his head: “Can’t have you, old man. This is Burtis’s first lesson and he doesn’t want a gallery. Where’s Morgan?” “He’s over there with Jack Simpson. I thought Wainwright might show up, but he hasn’t come yet.” “Pete’s gone to Greenburg to the dentist. You’ll find someone, though. Come on, Curt. Here’s a ball for you. And here’s a driver. It is an old one of mine, but it’s a dandy.” He made Ned’s tee for him, placed him in position and pointed out the first hole. “Now then, just swing your club back as though you didn’t care, keep your eye on the ball and hit it.” “I can’t,” muttered Kendall nervously, darting a glance at the little audience who were watching proceedings. “Yes, you can. Now let me tell you something. These fellows have all had to learn just as you’re learning. You won’t do any worse than they did the first time. Go ahead now. I don’t care where the ball goes, only hit it. Easy back. That’s right. Now down――” Kendall’s driver swished through the air and the ball, disturbed by the passing club, rolled off the tee. Kendall smiled foolishly. The onlookers smiled too, but more with Kendall than at him. Ned picked up the ball and replaced it. “All right. Try again. But don’t try to kill it, Curt. Just give it a nice little rap. And keep your eyes on it all the time.”