n a sand-bunker. Jupiter followed with a good clean drive for
two hundred miles, breaking all the records previously stated to me by
Adonis, whereupon we entered the skitomobile and were promptly
transported to the edge of the bunker, where my ball reposed upon the
glistening sand. It took three to get out, owing to the height of the
cop, which rose a trifle higher in the air than Mount Blanc, but the
niblick Jason had brought along for my use, as soon as I got used to
the titanic quality of the game I was playing, was finally equal to
the loft. My ball landed just short of the green, one hundred and
sixteen miles away. Jupiter foozled his approach, and we both reached
the edge of the green in four.

"Bully distance for a putt," said Jupiter, taking the line from his
ball to the hole.

"About how far is it?" I asked, for I couldn't see anything
resembling a hole within a mile of me.

"Oh, five miles, I imagine," was the answer. "Put on these glasses and
you'll see the disk."

My courteous host handed me a pair of spectacles which I put upon my
nose, and there, seemingly two inches away, but in reality five and a
quarter miles, was the hole. The glasses were a revelation, but I had
seen too much that was wonderful to express surprise.

"Dead easy," I said, referring to the putt, now that I had the glasses
on.

"Looks so," said Jupiter, "but be careful. You can't hope to putt
until you know your ball."

At the moment I did not understand, but a minute after I had a shock.
Putting perfectly straight, the ball rolled easily along and then made
a slight hitch backward, as if I had put a cut on it, and struck off
ahead, straight as an arrow but to the left of the disk. This it
continued to do in its course, zigzagging more and more out of the
straight line until it finally stopped, quite two and a half miles
from the cup.

"Now watch me," said Jupiter. "You'll get an idea of how the ball
works."

I obeyed, and was surprised to see him aim at a point at least a mile
aside of the mark, but the results were perfect, for the gutty, acting
precisely as mine did, zigzagged along until it reached the rim of the
cup and then dropped gently in.

"One up," said Jupiter, with a broad smile as he watched my
ill-repressed wonderment.

As we were transported to the next tee by Phaeton and his machine, I
looked at my ball, and the peculiarity of its make became clear at
once. It was called "The Vulcan," and in action had pre