I was resting in the lobby of our hotel after a strenuous day's work, when I found that I was being paged. I answered the summons, and was informed that a lady wished to see me. Her card bore the name "Miss Amelia Merridew." Amelia! The name seemed familiar. Then I remembered. Amelia was the name of the girl Vincent Jopp intended to marry, the fourth of the long line of Mrs. Jopps. I hurried to present myself, and found a tall, slim girl, who was plainly labouring under a considerable agitation. "Miss Merridew?" I said. "Yes," she murmured. "My name will be strange to you." "Am I right," I queried, "in supposing that you are the lady to whom Mr. Jopp----" "I am! I am!" she replied. "And, oh, what shall I do?" "Kindly give me particulars," I said, taking out my pad from force of habit. She hesitated a moment, as if afraid to speak. "You are caddying for Mr. Jopp in the Final tomorrow?" she said at last. "I am." "Then could you--would you mind--would it be giving you too much trouble if I asked you to shout 'Boo!' at him when he is making his stroke, if he looks like winning?" I was perplexed. "I don't understand." "I see that I must tell you all. I am sure you will treat what I say as absolutely confidential." "Certainly." "I am provisionally engaged to Mr. Jopp." "Provisionally?" She gulped. "Let me tell you my story. Mr. Jopp asked me to marry him, and I would rather do anything on earth than marry him. But how could I say 'No!' with those awful eyes of his boring me through? I knew that if I said 'No', he would argue me out of it in two minutes. I had an idea. I gathered that he had never played golf, so I told him that I would marry him if he won the Amateur Championship this year. And now I find that he has been a golfer all along, and, what is more, a plus man! It isn't fair!" "He was not a golfer when you made that condition," I said. "He took up the game on the following day." "Impossible! How could he have become as good as he is in this short time?" "Because he is Vincent Jopp! In his lexicon there is no such word as impossible." She shuddered. "What a man! But I can't marry him," she cried. "I want to marry somebody else. Oh, won't you help me? Do shout 'Boo!' at him when he is starting his down-swing!" I shook my head. "It would take more than a single 'boo' to put Vincent Jopp off his stroke." "But won't you try it?" "I cannot. My duty is to my employer." "Oh, do!" "No, no. Duty is duty, and paramount with me. Besides, I have a bet on him to win." The stricken girl uttered a faint moan, and tottered away. * * * * * I was in our suite shortly after dinner that night, going over some of the notes I had made that day, when the telephone rang. Jopp was out at the time, taking a short stroll with his after-dinner cigar. I unhooked the receiver, and a female voice spoke. "Is that Mr. Jopp?" "Mr. Jopp's secretary speaking. Mr. Jopp is out."