"You can't hole short putts without confidence," observed Ned Alder, who was a notoriously bad golfer. "Now I always...." "Why don't you take a course of lessons in confidence?" asked Molly rudely. "Putting," began Good interrogatively, when the laugh at the allusion to the extent and fruitlessness of Alder's golf education had subsided, "is...." "The act of putting the ball in the hole," said Molly with a mixture of surprise and impatience in her tone. A sudden silence fell around the board as the entire company listened. The tall stranger, such an object of curiosity to all of them, had spoken for the first time. "And you call that 'holing,' I believe?" he went on imperturbably. "Yes," said Roger, sympathetic with Good's isolation. "And you have to have confidence to do it successfully?" "Lord, yes," said Alder, under his breath. "Golf must be a very ancient game," mused Good seriously. The painful silence continued. Judith ached to say something that would rescue him from the clumsy predicament into which he had thrust himself, and she wanted to slap Molly for the expression of supercilious disdain on her face. But no words came for the one and she was not quite atavistic enough for the other. "Yes, it's mentioned in Scripture," continued Good finally, when the pause had become almost unbearable. "You recall the injunction--something like this--'have faith and it will make thee--hole'?" The atrocious pun was uttered amid a silence which needed only a little less tact on the part of those present to make it derisive, and with the speaker looking down at his plate, seemingly oblivious to all his surroundings. For a moment even the quiet noises of service seemed to be stilled. Then, with first a half-intimated gasp of amazement, there was a burst of almost hysteric laughter. It was a gay and intimate gathering, and Good's contribution to the wit of the evening, served to make him, temporarily at least, part of it. Molly Wolcott's coolness quite deserted her, and with characteristic animation she turned her attention to this curious-looking individual who had the audacity to make bad jokes. Nor was it a temporary interest. With increasing frequency she laughed aloud. The man on her right joined her. Judith was amazed. She studied Good constantly, not overlooking the fact that his cocktail was untasted. She strained her ears to catch something of what he was saying, but his voice was low, and he seemed to be talking to Molly almost confidentially. Finally, at a particularly uproarious bit of hilarity, she gave way to her curiosity. "What on earth are you talking about?" she demanded, when a lull in the conversation enabled her to be heard. "Oh," he said, "I was just telling Miss Wolcott about a ball game I pitched in the Philippines. We were playing the 17th Infantry and they got me full of _nepal_. I did some curious things," he added reflectively. "Were you ever in the army?" she asked in amazement.