At this moment, seemingly in an accidental manner, Ross Cleaves, the champion of the club, accompanied by Manton, Frost, Fisher, and two or three others, came up to the teeing ground. “Why, hello!” cried Manton, with attempted pleasantness. “Here’s Merriwell. We were just speaking of you, Merriwell.” “Were you, indeed?” “Yes; I was telling Cleaves he ought to challenge you for a round of the links. You have a knack of winning at everything, but we think Cleaves could take a fall out of you at this business.” “I concede the probability,” said Frank. This did not satisfy Manton at all. “Do you dare try him a round?” he demanded. “He’s looking for some one who can make it interesting for him. “Then I’ll recommend Hodge,” said Merry, placing a hand on Bart’s shoulder. “He’s fairly good at it.” “It takes some one who is more than fairly good.” “Does it? Well, perhaps Hodge will prove good enough to keep Mr. Cleaves busy. If Mr. Cleaves isn’t satisfied after it’s over, let him come to me, and I’ll try to give him satisfaction.” “He seems inclined to duck,” said Frost. Bert Fuller was annoyed beyond measure. He walked over to Manton and Frost, to whom he spoke in a low tone, his words being heard by no others. Manton shrugged his broad shoulders and turned away. “Well, I’m looking for some one,” said Cleaves. “Mr. Hodge will do, if Mr. Merriwell doesn’t feel like it this afternoon.” Without a word, Bart began to peel off, another golfer having offered his clubs for use. Although he was not in golfing rig, Hodge was quite willing to do his best. Cleaves teed carefully, addressed the ball in graceful form and led off with a long, beautiful drive. The ball did not rise high into the air, but went sailing away, away until it almost seemed that it would be lost to view. In the meantime, Fuller had obtained a caddie for Hodge. “There’s a starter for your man, Merriwell,” said Manton. Frank spoke to Bart in a low tone: “Beat this man if you can,” he urged. “I am confident that you can make him hustle if you play half as well as you did in Ohio last week.” Hodge had won a golf trophy in Ohio. Having teed, Bart selected a club, got the hang of it, and then addressed the ball. His form was faultless, and he made a drive that seemed fully as handsome as that of Cleaves. “Well!” was the exclamation of Fuller; “he did that in style. I believe he drove quite as far as Cleaves.” The two opponents sauntered leisurely down to look for their balls, and it was found that Hodge had driven some yards farther than Cleaves. It happened that both balls had lodged favorably. Cleaves sent his sailing toward the little flag that marked the first hole. Bart did the same. Then Cleaves made a handsome approach, lodging close to the hole. Hodge fell off somewhat. “Cleaves makes it in four,” said Frost. “Hodge will be one behind on the first hole.” Cleaves did make it in four.