We caught up with Colonel Jimmy at the eighteenth tee. The Colonel was in a better humour and was offering to give the chinless boy a stroke and play him double or quits on the last hole--sure proof that he had him badly licked. The chinless boy took the bet. "Now, there's some sense to that!" said Small. "I never could play any game for fun. Make it worth while, that's what I say! Archie, I'll bet you a hundred that I beat you this hole!" Colonel Jimmy was picking up a handful of sand from a tee. He dropped it and began to clean his ball. "I'd be ashamed to take the money," said Archie. "You wouldn't have a chance." "You mean you're afraid to take one. Be a sport!" "I _am_ a sport. That's why I won't bet on a cinch." They had quite a jawing match and finally Archie said that he would bet Small ten dollars. "Huh!" said Small. "I wouldn't exert myself for a measly ten spot. Make it twenty-five!" "Well, if you insist," said Archie, "and I'll give you two strokes." "You'll give me nothing!" said Small. "What do you think I am? I'll play you even and lick you." And he was so nasty about it that Archie had to agree. The Colonel turned around after he played his second shot to watch us drive. Small took a tremendous swing and hooked the ball over the fence and out of bounds. He borrowed another and sliced that one into the woods. When he finally sunk his putt--he took 17 for the hole and that wasn't counting the ones he missed--he dug up a wallet stuffed with currency and insisted on paying Archie on the spot. "I don't feel right about taking this," said Archie. "You won it, didn't you?" said Small. "If you had lost, would you have paid?" "Ye-es," said Archie, "but----" "But nothing! Take it and shut up!" Colonel Jimmy, waiting on the porch, was an interested witness. In less than five minutes by the watch the chinless boy was sitting over in a corner, alone with a lemonade, and the Colonel had Small by the buttonhole, talking Chicago to him. I have always claimed that Colonel Jimmy has all the instincts of a wolf, but perhaps it is only his Wall Street training that makes him so keen when a lamb is in sight. "Yes, Chicago is a live town all right," said Small, "but about this golf proposition, now: I'm getting the hang of the thing, Colonel. If I didn't lose so many balls----" "You have a fine, natural swing," said the Colonel in a tone soft as corn silk. "A trifle less power, my friend, and you will get better direction." Well, it was too much for me. I didn't care much for Small, but I hated to see him walk into ambush with his eyes open. I left him and the Colonel hobnobbing over their highballs, and went into the locker room, where I found Archie. "Look here!" I said. "That old pirate is after your friend. Colonel Jimmy heard Small make that fool bet on the eighteenth tee, and you know what a leech he is when soft money is in sight. He's after him." "So soon?" said Archie. "Quick work."