"Quit it, Jim!" snapped Watlington. "Your bark was always worse than your bite, and it's not much of a bark at that--'Sound and fury, signifying nothing.' Young man, I take it you are the chairman of the Greens Committee of this Third Avenue Country Club, empowered to act. May I ask what are our chances of getting through?" "I _know_ I'm going to like you--in time!" exclaimed Wally. "I feel it coming on. Let's see, to-morrow is Saturday, isn't it?" "What's that got to do with it?" mumbled Hamilton. "Much," answered Wally. "Oh, much, I assure you! I expect to be at the Sundown Club to-morrow." His chin shot out and his voice carried the sting of a lash. "I expect to see you gentlemen there, playing your usual crawling foursome. I expect to see you allowing your fellow members to pass you on the course. You might even invite them to come through--you might _insist_ on it, courteously, you understand, and with such grace as you may be able to muster. I want to see every member of that club play through you--every member!" "All d-damned nonsense!" bleated Peebles, sucking his fingers. "Shut up!" ordered Watlington savagely. "And, young man, if we do this--what then?" "Ah, then!" said Wally. "Then the reward of merit. If you show me that you can learn to be considerate of others--if you show me that you can be courteous on the course where you make the rules--I feel safe in promising that you will be treated with consideration on this other course which has been mentioned. Yes, quite safe. In fact, gentlemen, you may even be _asked_ to play through on Third Avenue!" "But this agitation?" began Hamilton. "Was paid for by the day," smiled the brazen rascal, with a graceful inclination of his head. "People may be hired to do anything--even to annoy prominent citizens and frighten a City Council." Hamilton stirred uneasily, but Wally read his thought and froze him with a single keen glance. "Of course," said he, "you understand that what has been done once may be done again. Sentiment crystallises--when helped out with a few more red handbills--a few more speeches on the street corners----" "The point is well taken!" interrupted Watlington hurriedly. "Damn well taken! Young man, talk to me. _I'm_ the head of this outfit. Pay no attention to Jim Peck. He's nothing but a bag of wind. Hamilton doesn't count. His nerves are no good. Peebles--he's an old goat. _I'm_ the one with power to act. Talk to me. Is there anything else you want?" "Nothing," said Wally. "I think your streak of consideration is likely to prove a lasting one. If not--well, I may have to spread this story round town a bit----" "Oh, my Lord!" groaned Colonel Peck. * * * * *