"Somebody has lost the transmission out of his wheel chair," said Wally. "Well, we should worry--we've got the red flags and the right of way. Fore!" And he proceeded to smack a perfect screamer down the middle of the course--two hundred and fifty yards if it was an inch. I staggered into one and laid my ball some distance behind his, but on the direct line to the pin. Then we had to wait a bit while another foursome putted out. "There oughtn't to be any congestion on a day like this," said Wally. "Must be a bunch of old men ahead." "It's the Big Four," said I. "Watlington, Peck, Peebles and Hamilton. They always take their time." From where we were we could see the seventh and eighth fair greens. There wasn't a player in sight on either one. "Good Lord!" said Wally. "They've got the whole United States wide open ahead of 'em. They're not holding their place on the course." "They never do," said I, and just then the foursome moved off the putting green. "Give her a ride, old top!" said Wally. I claim that my second shot wasn't half bad--for a ten-handicap man. I used a brassy and reached the green about thirty feet from the pin, but the demon Wally pulled a mid-iron out of his bag, waggled it once or twice, and then made my brassy look sick. When we reached the top of the hill, there was his ball ten feet from the cup. I ran up, playing it safe for a par four, but Wally studied the roll of the green for about ten seconds--and dropped a very fat three. He was decent enough to apologise. "I'm playing over my head," said he. I couldn't dispute it--two threes on par fours might well be over anybody's head. One down and fourteen to go; it had all the earmarks of a massacre. We had quite an audience at the fifth tee--two foursomes were piled up there, cursing. "What's the matter, gentlemen?" asked Wally. "Can't you get through?" "Nobody can get through," said Billy Williams. "It's the Big Four." "But they'll respect the red flags, won't they?" It was a perfectly natural question for a stranger to ask--and Wally was practically a stranger, though most of the men knew who he was. It brought all sorts of answers. "You think they will? I'll bet you a little two to one, no limit, that they're all colour-blind!" "Oh, yes, they'll let you through!" "They'll _ask_ you to come through--won't they, Billy? They'll insist on it, what?" "They're full of such tricks!" Wally was puzzled. He didn't quite know what to make of it. "But a red flag," said he, "gives you the right of way." "Everywhere but here," said Billy Williams. "But in this case it's a rule!" argued Wally. "Those fellows in front make their own rules." "But the Greens Committee----" And this was where everybody laughed. Wally stooped and teed his ball. "Look here," said he, "I'll bet you anything you like that they let us through. Why, they can't help themselves!"