Breathlessly they watched the two players advance toward the green. Barbara had outdriven her opponent but she topped her second. Carol Day, playing a brassie, put her ball well up. Barbara recovered on her third shot, carried the bunker which guarded the green twenty yards from it, and laid her ball on the edge of the green. Carol's third caught the top of the bunker, shot into the air and dropped back into the sand pit! "Oh-h!" breathed Peggy delightedly into Keineth's ear. She knew it was the worst bunker on the course. But difficulties only made Carol Day play the better. She studied the shot for several moments while Barbara and the gallery watched with tense interest. Then they saw her lift her niblick slowly, her head bent; a cloud of sand raised, the ball cleared the bunker's top, dropped upon the green, rolled a few feet and rested within an easy putt of the cup! The gallery applauded. It was a splendid shot, one of the kind that ought to win a match for its player. Even Keineth cried out in generous praise of the play. Peggy gripped Keineth's hand so hard that it hurt. "Steady, steady, there, Barb," Mr. Lee muttered. Barbara walked slowly to her ball. Her eyes were lowered, she did not glance at the familiar faces about the green. Her next shot demanded the utmost skill, care and steadiness she could command. Of them all she was the coolest. She _must_ run down her putt to win the match! Peggy suddenly shut her eyes that she could not see what happened. The others saw Barbara, with an easy movement, line her putt. The ball rolled slowly over the clipped turf, dead straight to the hole--closer, closer, hung for one fraction of a second on the rim of the cup and then with a thud that was like music, dropped in! Barbara was the champion of the women players of the club! "Why, it almost made me sick." Peggy confided to Keineth afterwards. "I will be a wreck when this week is over! And oh, if I can only win the life-saving medal to-morrow! Think of it, four prizes in the Lee family! There will be no living with us. I don't care a straw for the cups they give--it's that little bit of a bronze medal I want There's going to be a man here from Washington to give it to the winner--one of the Volunteer Life-saving Association. And that medal's _got_ to go right here," and defiantly she struck her hand against her breast. "I just can't wait," Keineth sighed in a tragic manner. "The last day is most fun of all," Peggy explained. "How can we ever settle down into calm living?" "Huh--fast enough! I've got to begin reviewing English. I have a condition to make up." "And I want to work on my music," cried Keineth, suddenly conscience-smitten.