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But there they were disappointed. Perfectly friendly though she was to both of them, the lovelight was conspicuously absent from her beautiful eyes. And it was not long before each had come independently to a solution of this mystery. It was plain to them that the whole trouble lay in the fact that each neutralized the other’s attractions. Arthur felt that, if he could only have a clear field, all would be over except the sending out of the wedding invitations; and Ralph was of the opinion that, if he could just call on the girl one evening without finding the place all littered up with Arthur, his natural charms would swiftly bring home the bacon. And, indeed, it was true that they had no rivals except themselves. It happened at the moment that Woodhaven was very short of eligible bachelors. We marry young in this delightful spot, and all the likely men were already paired off. It seemed that, if Amanda Trivett intended to get married, she would have to select either Ralph Bingham or Arthur Jukes. A dreadful choice.

* * * * *

It had not occurred to me at the outset that my position in the affair would be anything closer than that of a detached and mildly interested spectator. Yet it was to me that Ralph came in his hour of need. When I returned home one evening, I found that my man had brought him in and laid him on the mat in my sitting-room.

I offered him a chair and a cigar, and he came to the point with commendable rapidity.

“Leigh,” he said, directly he had lighted his cigar, “is too small for Arthur Jukes and myself.”

“Ah, you have been talking it over and decided to move?” I said, delighted. “I think you are perfectly right. Leigh is over-built. Men like you and Jukes need a lot of space. Where do you think of going?”

“I’m not going.”

“But I thought you said—-“

“What I meant was that the time has come when one of us must leave.”

“Oh, only one of you?” It was something, of course, but I confess I was disappointed, and I think my disappointment must have shown in my voice; for he looked at me, surprised.

“Surely you wouldn’t mind Jukes going?” he said.

“Why, certainly not. He really is going, is he?”

A look of saturnine determination came into Ralph’s face.

“He is. He thinks he isn’t, but he is.”

I failed to understand him, and said so. He looked cautiously about the room, as if to reassure himself that he could not be overheard.

“I suppose you’ve noticed,” he said, “the disgusting way that man Jukes has been hanging round Miss Trivett, boring her to death?”

“I have seen them together sometimes.”

“I love Amanda Trivett!” said Ralph.

“Poor girl!” I sighed.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Poor girl!” I said. “I mean, to have Arthur Jukes hanging round her.”

“That’s just what I think,” said Ralph Bingham. “And that’s why we’re going to play this match.”

“What match?”

“This match we’ve decided to play. I want you to act as one of the judges, to go along with Jukes and see that he doesn’t play any of his tricks. You know what he is! And in a vital match like this—-“

“How much are you playing for?”

“The whole world!”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The whole world. It amounts to that. The loser is to leave Leigh for good, and the winner stays on and marries Amanda Trivett. We have arranged all the details. Rupert Bailey will accompany me, acting as the other judge.”

“And you want me to go round with Jukes?”

“Not round,” said Ralph Bingham. “Along.”

“What is the distinction?”

“We are not going to play a round. Only one hole.”

“Sudden death, eh?”

“Not so very sudden. It’s a longish hole. We start on the first tee here and hole out in the town in the doorway of the Majestic Hotel in Royal Square. A distance, I imagine, of about sixteen miles.”