“Yes.”

“I took my first lesson yesterday afternoon.  Miss Ross and I went over to Mr. Bishop’s after dinner, as we arranged we should during the dance.  We put our clubs in my auto when no one was looking, and went by a roundabout way to the big sheep pasture to the east of the farmhouse.  Do you know where it is?”

“Perfectly.”

“It was still half an hour from sunset, and Mr. Wallace was there waiting for us.  Mr. Smith,” clasping her hands, “you should see that gentleman play golf!”

“I had an idea he could play from the moment he lofted your sliced ball over the fence that afternoon,” I said.

“Can you go with us?” she asked suddenly.  “Miss Ross and I promised Mr. Wallace we would come over this afternoon an I bring a set of men’s clubs with us, and it would be just splendid for you to go with us.  Will you go, Mr. Smith?”

I assured her it would be a pleasure.  At that moment Miss Harding appeared, and we quickly decided to let her into the secret.

“Mr. Wallace said he would arrange with Mr. Bishop to get away from his work an hour or so any time we came over this afternoon,” explained Miss Lawrence, “so there will be no deception on his part.”

“Oh, you should see him drive!” exclaimed Miss Ross, raising her eyes as if following a ball which was travelling an enormous distance.  “And he did not dare hit them hard for fear of breaking my club.  It was perfectly lovely!”

[Illustration:  “We ran the auto into the sheep pasture”]

“And approach!” added Miss Lawrence.

“And putt!” declared Miss Ross.  “It was grand!”

“Let us see this paragon of all the golfing virtues without delay,” laughed Miss Harding, and half an hour later our automobile stopped in front of the Bishop house.

Wallace must have been on the outlook for us, since he appeared directly.  He seemed a bit surprised to see me, but greeted us pleasantly.

“Miss Lawrence and Miss Ross were so kind as to praise shots I made yesterday,” he explained, “but, as Mr. Smith will understand, the good ones were more or less lucky, for it is long since I have had a club in my hand.  However, I will do the best I can to illustrate the typical Scottish swings, as I execute them, but please do not expect too much.”

We ran the auto into the sheep pasture, and I presume it was the first invasion of those haunts by this modern vehicle.  At least the sheep seemed to so regard it, and ran bleating in every direction.  It is an ideal spot for an exhibition of the long game, and Bishop has had many offers from golf clubs seeking a location for links.  That farmer gentleman appeared shortly after we arrived at the crest of a gentle hill.

“No trespassin’ on these here premises!” he grinned.

“How are ye, everybody?  Miss Lawrence tells me that my man Wallace, here, is a crackerjack drivin’ one of them golf balls.  You’d ought to see him drive a team when he first come here.  Took him two weeks to learn the difference between ‘gee’ and ‘haw,’ and to tell the ‘nigh’ from the ‘off’ boss, but I suppose drivin’ a golf ball is a sight easier.  But I won’t bother ye.  I’ll just stand here and watch.  Perhaps I might learn somethin’.”