errupted Harding. "Was there no way
to get at him?"

"Absolutely none," continued Robinson. "The sun was sinking--when I had
an idea. In the bottom of my golf bag were four badly hacked and split
balls. I called to Powers to keep his nerve. The balls were
rubber-cored, and I widened the crack in one of them and gouged out a
space in the rubber. In this I put the heads of three matches, teed the
ball on the beach, called to Powers what I had done and told him to keep
his eye on the ball. I hit it clean and fair, but a trail of smoke told
that the concussion had ignited the matches. The ball fell in the
underbrush a few yards from Powers, and he almost cried when he took out
the charred match heads."

"How far was it?" asked Harding.

"I paced it later and found it to be about one hundred and forty yards,"
said Robinson.

"You paced it?" exclaimed Harding. "You're a bit mixed on this story,
Robinson, aren't you?"

"Not at all," laughed that gentleman. "You wait and I'll explain. Then I
fixed another ball and wrapped the match heads in surgeon's cotton. I
popped that ball in the air. The next one was pulled, struck a rock and
bounded into the water. One remained, and it was a critical moment. I
was numbed with the cold, it was almost dark, and I had to make a shot
for a man's life, but I made it. It went far and true and struck in the
branches of a fir tree over Power's head. He did not see it, but he
heard it. Then began a search for a lost ball. It was pitch dark half an
hour later when Powers shouted that he had found it, and soon after we
yelled like madmen when a tiny yellow flame curled up from the island.
Powers asked me to drive a ham sandwich across, but I did not attempt
it. The guide started back after another boat, and Powers and I spent
the long hours over our respective bonfires in an effort to keep from
freezing."

"It dropped to twenty-five below zero before morning, and when daybreak
came I went down to the beach. The water still flowed swift and black
directly across, but when I looked to the north I found that the ice
extended from the shore to the upper end of the island. I put several
sandwiches in my pocket and carefully walked across. Powers was trying
to cook some freshwater clams when I came upon his bonfire."

"That is as much of the story as you will be interested in," concluded
Robinson. "Powers kept the ball which saved his life, and in return gave
me that oil painting depicting the sc