She was laughing; her color was very becoming, and John beamed upon her. His face was of that blond type which radiates light and flushes into a kind of sunburn with excitement. There was something very boyish about John Saxton. The curves of his face were still those of youth; he had never dared to encourage a mustache or beard, owing to a disinclination to produce more than was necessary of the soft, silky hair which covered his head abundantly. He had a straight nose, a firm chin and a brave showing of square, white teeth. His mouth was his best feature, for it expressed his good nature and a wish to be pleased,--a wish that shone also in his blue eyes. John Saxton was determined to like life and people; and he liked both just now. "Are you entirely sound? Won't you have witch-hazel, arnica, brandy?" "Oh, thanks; nothing. I've got my breath again and am all right." "But they always sprain their ankles." "Yes, but I'm not a romantic young person. I'll be sorry if that caddy has lost my best driver." "He's out on the battlefield now looking for it," said John, indicating their two caddies, who were gathering up the lost implements. "I think you're away," John added, musingly. "Yes; for the club house." "That's poor golf, to give up just because you're bunkered. And yet my caddy said you were the greatest." They walked over the course toward the club house, discussing their encounter. "What hole were you playing when the meek-eyed kine invaded the field?" "Oh, I was doing very badly. I was only at the fourth, and breaking all my records," said John. "I was glad of a diversion. The gentle footprints of that steer didn't improve the quality of this course," he added, looking about. The ground was soft from recent rains, and the hoofs of the animal had dug into it and marred the turf. "It's a rule of the club," said Evelyn, "that players must replace their own divots. That can hardly be enforced against that ferocious beast." "Hardly; but he was easily master of the game while he remained with us." The caddies had recovered the scattered equipment of the players, and were following, discussing the incidents of the busiest quarter of an hour they had known in their golfing experience. Evelyn turned suddenly upon John. "Did I look very foolish?" she demanded. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean." "Yes, you do, Mr. Saxton. A woman always looks ridiculous when she runs." She laughed. "I'm sure I must have looked so. But you couldn't have seen me; you were pretty busy yourself just then." "Well, of course, if I'm asked about it, I'll have to tell of your sprinting powers; I'm not sure that you didn't lower a record." "Oh, you're the hero of the occasion! I cut a sorry figure in it. I suppose, though, that as the maiden in distress I'll get a little glory--just a little." "And your picture in the Sunday papers." "Horrors, no! But you will appear on your fiery steed swinging the lasso." He threw up his hands.