tillwell and the boys. After
their first surprised outburst they were dumb.

"You-all seen thet?" Nick grandly waved his hand. "Thaught I was
joshin', didn't you? Why, I used to go to St. Louis an' Kansas City to
play this here game. There was some talk of the golf clubs takin' me
down East to play the champions. But I never cared fer the game. Too
easy fer me! Them fellers back in Missouri were a lot of cheap dubs,
anyhow, always kickin' because whenever I hit a ball hard I always lost
it. Why, I hed to hit sort of left-handed to let 'em stay in my class.
Now you-all can go ahead an' play Monty an' Link. I could beat 'em both,
playin' with one hand, if I wanted to. But I ain't interested. I jest
hit thet ball off the mesa to show you. I sure wouldn't be seen playin'
on your team."

With that Nick sauntered away toward the horses. Stillwell appeared
crushed. And not a scornful word was hurled after Nick, which fact
proved the nature of his victory. Then Nels strode into the limelight.
As far as it was possible for this iron-faced cowboy to be so, he was
bland and suave. He remarked to Stillwell and the other cowboys that
sometimes it was painful for them to judge of the gifts of superior
cowboys such as belonged to Nick and himself. He picked up the club
Nick had used and called for a new ball. Stillwell carefully built up
a little mound of sand and, placing the ball upon it, squared away to
watch. He looked grim and expectant.

Nels was not so large a man as Nick, and did not look so formidable
as he waved his club at the gaping cowboys. Still he was lithe,
tough, strong. Briskly, with a debonair manner, he stepped up and then
delivered a mighty swing at the ball. He missed. The power and momentum
of his swing flung him off his feet, and he actually turned upside down
and spun round on his head. The cowboys howled. Stillwell's stentorian
laugh rolled across the mesa. Madeline and her guests found it
impossible to restrain their mirth. And when Nels got up he cast a
reproachful glance at Madeline. His feelings were hurt.

His second attempt, not by any means so violent, resulted in as clean a
miss as the first, and brought jeers from the cowboys. Nels's red face
flamed redder. Angrily he swung again. The mound of sand spread over the
teeing-ground and the exasperating little ball rolled a few inches. This
time he had to build up the sand mound and replace the ball himself.
Stillwell stood scornfully by, and the boys