Part 27 (1/2)
”Now what about your moving hazards?” he cried.
At this moment the man in the sweater returned, carrying a spanner.
Arthur Jukes sprang towards him.
”I'll give you five pounds to drive me to Royal Square,” he said.
I do not know what the sweater-clad young man's engagements for the morning had been originally, but nothing could have been more obliging than the ready way in which he consented to revise them at a moment's notice. I dare say you have noticed that the st.u.r.dy peasantry of our beloved land respond to an offer of five pounds as to a bugle-call.
”You're on,” said the youth.
”Good!” said Arthur Jukes.
”You think you're darned clever,” said Ralph Bingham.
”I know it,” said Arthur.
”Well, then,” said Ralph, ”perhaps you will tell us how you propose to get the ball out of the car when you reach Royal Square?”
”Certainly,” replied Arthur. ”You will observe on the side of the vehicle a convenient handle which, when turned, opens the door. The door thus opened, I shall chip my ball out!”
”I see,” said Ralph. ”Yes, I never thought of that.”
There was something in the way the man spoke that I did not like. His mildness seemed to me suspicious. He had the air of a man who has something up his sleeve. I was still musing on this when Arthur called to me impatiently to get in. I did so, and we drove off. Arthur was in great spirits. He had ascertained from the young man at the wheel that there was no chance of the opposition being able to hire another car at the garage. This machine was his own property, and the only other one at present in the shop was suffering from complicated trouble of the oiling-system and would not be able to be moved for at least another day.
I, however, shook my head when he pointed out the advantages of his position. I was still wondering about Ralph.
”I don't like it,” I said.
”Don't like what?”
”Ralph Bingham's manner.”
”Of course not,” said Arthur. ”n.o.body does. There have been complaints on all sides.”
”I mean, when you told him how you intended to get the ball out of the car.”
”What was the matter with him?”
”He was too--ha!”
”How do you mean he was too--ha?”
”I have it!”
”What?”
”I see the trap he was laying for you. It has just dawned on me. No wonder he didn't object to your opening the door and chipping the ball out. By doing so you would forfeit the match.”
”Nonsense! Why?”
”Because,” I said, ”it is against the rules to tamper with a hazard. If you had got into a sand-bunker, would you smooth away the sand? If you had put your shot under a tree, could your caddie hold up the branches to give you a clear shot? Obviously you would disqualify yourself if you touched that door.”