Part 12 (1/2)

”And what does Jameson say to that?” inquired the Author.

”Oh, Jameson does not deny it. He says that he did not see it, but he thinks it very probable, and he will certainly yield that point if it is material, as he desires that the case should be settled strictly on its merits, neither side taking any unfair advantage of the other.”

”It is a pity that they could not settle it on terms of equity,” said the Parson.

”I don't agree that equity has anything to do with the case,” observed the Colonel at length. ”It seems to me that Botha's point settles it, and that the ball must be played from the place where the dog allowed it to come to rest. I don't think Dr. Jim wins the hole at all. Rule 22 governs the case partly but not entirely. By the way, Septimus, when we turn up rules to settle these cases, I think you should only look at those affecting the one in hand, and not at other rules which have a bearing on the case you are to present. You have had your ten minutes'

study, you know. Now it is clear that the ball was in motion when the dog seized it, and if the dog then took it direct to the hole it all counted in the stroke. This case does not come within the clause about the ball lodging in anything moving, because the dog was not moving when it seized the ball. Once the dog let the ball stop on the green the stroke was ended. Therefore it is evidently a question as to whether it allowed it to come to rest or not, and Botha's evidence settles the matter. What do you say, William?”

”I entirely agree,” responded the M.P.

”And you, Jim?”

”I agree,” said the Author.

”I trust we can count on your support, Septimus?” said the Colonel, looking across towards the Parson.

”Oh, certainly,” he replied.

”Gentlemen,” said the Colonel in his most official manner, ”it is determined that Dr. Jameson did not hole out with that stroke. I am informed that they putted out afterwards, each in one more, and therefore the hole was halved. Now, my literary friend, will you kindly present your case?”

The Author thereupon advanced his queer case as follows:

”A very awkward point has arisen in the course of play on the links at Valhalla. Shakespeare and Bacon, who are staying there at the present time, got up very early one morning, when the other golfers were asleep, and went out for a match, without caddies. Going to the seventh hole, which is both a short one and a blind one--a thoroughly bad hole--the players were not aware that the greenkeeper was on the putting-green cutting a new hole. They played their tee shots and then went forward to the green, when they were surprised to find that the ball of each lay dead to a different hole. The greenkeeper had taken the flag and the metal lining out of the old hole, and had cut the slab of turf out of the new one, but had not at that time placed the metal cup or the flag into the new one, nor put the turf into the old one to fill it up.

Bacon's ball lay dead to the new hole, and Shakespeare's to the old one.

Each insisted on holing out at the hole to which his ball lay dead (the holes were many yards apart), and then the dispute began, each claiming the hole. Shakespeare said that as the new hole was not finished the old one was still in commission. 'No,' said Bacon, 'not satisfied with cheating me out of my plays, you now try to take my holes. We have evidently been playing at new holes all the way out so far, and we must continue to do so. It is the new holes that count.' 'But,' expostulated Shakespeare, 'there are more old holes on the course at the present time than new ones. And this wretched greenkeeper will take two hours to finish his job. Must we dawdle behind him the whole way round? Let us ask the greenkeeper which hole was most like a hole at the time the b.a.l.l.s came on to the green.' The greenkeeper, however, was very ill-tempered, having been nearly hit by one of the b.a.l.l.s, and he declined to answer the question. He said that people had no business to be playing on the course while holes were being cut, _no matter who they were_. Eventually the parties gave up their match and went back to the clubhouse, when they agreed to submit the point to some carefully const.i.tuted authority that would do its best to settle this most unfortunate and undignified quarrel between two eminently respectable persons of considerable standing.”

The Author looked about him after this deliverance.

”H'm!” muttered the Colonel, ”not bad for you, Jim.”

”It seems to me,” said the Reverend Septimus, ”that Bacon certainly won if the new hole was full size, despite its not having had the tin put into it.”

”Oh yes, it was full size,” interposed the Author.

”The old hole,” pursued the Parson, ”was ground under repair, but if the new hole was not full size Shakespeare won.”

”Of course,” remarked the Author, ”the tin is only mentioned to indicate the state of transition.”

”I don't agree with Septimus,” said the M.P. ”The rules do not provide for this contingency, and it must be settled under the equity clause of Rule 36. Regarding it in this way, it seems exactly six of one and half a dozen of the other, and the best--indeed, the only thing--to do is to regard the green as under repair, and the hole as temporarily closed.

Shakespeare and Bacon should therefore call it a half and pa.s.s on. If they had seen the flag before playing their tee shots it might have made a difference.”

”I am in entire accord with you, William,” the Colonel declared.

”Ditto,” said the Author. ”That was the ruling I had in my mind.”

”I think we ought to have another opinion,” persisted the Parson, ”but for the present I desire to go with the majority.”

”Now let us hear the character of the problem that our friend the hon.

member for North-East Fife has to present to this tribunal,” said the Colonel, with an expectant look to the quarter indicated.

”My case is a somewhat singular one, gentlemen,” the M.P. responded. ”It is this: