ar up in front of the clubhouse and helped Viola
out. "I think we are in plenty of time for your father's match," he
remarked.

"Yes," she assented. "I don't see any of the veterans on the field yet,"
and she looked across the perfect course. "I'll go to look for dad and
wish him luck. He always wants me to do that before he starts his medal
play. See you again, Captain;" and with a friendly nod she left the
somewhat chagrined yachtsman.

When Captain Poland had parked his car he took a short cut along a path
that led through a little clump of bushes. Midway he heard voices. In
an instant he recognized them as those of Horace Carwell and Harry
Bartlett. He heard Bartlett say:

"But don't you see how much better it would be to drop it all--to have
nothing more to do with her?"

"Look here, young man, you mind your own business!" snapped Mr. Carwell.
"I know what I'm doing!"

"I haven't any doubt of it, Mr. Carwell; but I ventured to suggest?"
went on Bartlett.

"Keep your suggestions to yourself, if you please. I've had about all I
want from you and your family. And if I hear any more of your impudent
talk--"

Then Captain Poland moved away, for he did not want to hear any more.

In the meantime Viola hurried back to the clubhouse, and forced herself
to be gay. But, somehow, a cloud seemed to have come over her day.

The throng had increased, and she caught sight, among the press, of Jean
Forette, their chauffeur.

"Have you seen my father since he arrived, Jean?" asked Viola.

"Oh, he is somewhere about, I suppose," was the answer, and it was given
in such a surly tone with such a churlish manner that Viola flushed with
anger and bit her lips to keep back a sharp retort.

At that moment Minnie Webb strolled past. She had heard the question and
the answer.

"I just saw your father going out with the other contestants, Viola,"
said Minnie Webb, "for they were friends of some years' standing. I
think they are going to start to play. I wonder why they say the French
are such a polite race," she went on, speaking lightly to cover Viola's
confusion caused by the chauffeur's manner. "He was positively
insulting."

"He was," agreed Viola. "But I shouldn't mind him, I suppose. He does
not like the new machine, and father has told him to find another place
by the end of the month. I suppose that has piqued him."

While there were many matches to be played at the Maraposa Club that
day, interest, as far as the