Ed Linton was a short, heavy man, and his stocky build gave evidence of considerable strength.  His former strokes had not been made at the expense of exertion, but now he got ready for a supreme effort.  A sudden silence clamped down upon the exuberant cowboys.  It was one of those fateful moments when the air was charged with disaster.  As Ed swung the club it fairly whistled.

Crack!  Instantly came a thump.  But no one saw the ball until it dropped from Stillwell’s shrinking body.  His big hands went spasmodically to the place that hurt, and a terrible groan rumbled from him.

Then the cowboys broke into a frenzy of mirth that seemed to find adequate expression only in dancing and rolling accompaniment to their howls.  Stillwell recovered his dignity as soon as he caught his breath, and he advanced with a rueful face.

“Wal, boys, it’s on Bill,” he said.  “I’m a livin’ proof of the pig-headedness of mankind.  Ed, you win.  You’re captain of the team.  You hit straight, an’ if I hadn’t been obstructin’ the general atmosphere that ball would sure have gone clear to the Chiricahuas.”

Then making a megaphone of his huge hands, he yelled a loud blast of defiance at Monty and Link.

“Hey, you swell gol-lofers!  We’re waitin’.  Come on if you ain’t scared.”

Instantly Monty and Link quit practising, and like two emperors came stalking across the links.

“Guess my bluff didn’t work much,” said Stillwell.  Then he turned to Madeline and her friends.  “Sure I hope, Miss Majesty, that you-all won’t weaken an’ go over to the enemy.  Monty is some eloquent, an’, besides, he has a way of gettin’ people to agree with him.  He’ll be plumb wild when he heahs what he an’ Link are up against.  But it’s a square deal, because he wouldn’t help us or lend the book that shows how to play.  An’, besides, it’s policy for us to beat him.  Now, if you’ll elect who’s to be caddies an’ umpire I’ll be powerful obliged.”

Madeline’s friends were hugely amused over the prospective match; but, except for Dorothy and Castleton, they disclaimed any ambition for active participation.  Accordingly, Madeline appointed Castleton to judge the play, Dorothy to act as caddie for Ed Linton, and she herself to be caddie for Ambrose.  While Stillwell beamingly announced this momentous news to his team and supporters Monty and Link were striding up.

Both were diminutive in size, bow-legged, lame in one foot, and altogether unprepossessing.  Link was young, and Monty’s years, more than twice Link’s, had left their mark.  But it would have been impossible to tell Monty’s age.  As Stillwell said, Monty was burned to the color and hardness of a cinder.  He never minded the heat, and always wore heavy sheepskin chaps with the wool outside.  This made him look broader than he was long.  Link, partial to leather, had, since he became Madeline’s chauffeur, taken to leather altogether.  He carried no weapon, but Monty wore a huge gun-sheath and gun.  Link smoked a cigarette and looked coolly impudent.  Monty was dark-faced, swaggering, for all the world like a barbarian chief.