Something that was like a hushed cheer went up from the gallery which had now reunited and had drawn aside at the edge of the green. Ned slipped his mashie back into his bag with a fine unconcern and took out his putter. Frost at the side of the green was looking rather serious as he bent over his ball. His fifth stroke left him within a scant two feet of the hole. The audience literally held their breath as Ned brushed aside an invisible obstacle in his path to the goal, measured the distance and direction with his eye and swung his putter back gently. _Tap!_ Forward rolled the ball, straight for the hole, but oh, so slowly! Three inches away from the edge it seemed about to stop, but it changed its mind and trickled on――on――and then, pop, it was out of sight! A breath of relief went up from the watchers, but it was not until Frost had holed out that the applause came. Then a dozen fellows pressed around Ned to slap him on the back and shake his hand. “Five, Tooker! That bogey! It’s never been done before! Oh, you Ned Tooker!” Frost shook hands with him, too, hiding his discomfiture as best he could. As they took up the journey to the eighth tee the score for the two rounds stood at 73 each, and the match depended on the next two holes. CHAPTER XIV DAN IS OUT OF SORTS The eighth hole is a short one, 150 yards, and the bogey is 3. A long drive, a short approach and you’re on the green. The hole has been done in 3 a good many times, and to-day both Ned and his adversary equaled bogey. At the ninth tee the excitement amongst the audience had grown intense. The ninth was five yards shorter than the last hole and was an easy one. There was a bunker near enough the tee to punish a weak drive, but after that it was fair sailing. Ned made a hard, straight drive that was a fraction too high. Had there been even a mild breeze he would have suffered in direction. Frost’s ball went lower, skimming above the bunker with only a half-dozen feet to spare, and doing a remarkable amount of rolling after it had struck the smooth turf. It was a fine long shot and bettered Ned’s by fifteen yards. The gallery unanimously agreed as they took up their way across the links and skirted the bunker that the match depended now on the next strokes. Frost had the advantage in distance, but it was felt that Ned was quite capable of overcoming that handicap, since on midiron plays he had shown himself superior to Frost all the afternoon.