Page:Golfers Magazine March 1916.pdf/29

March, 1916 eighty-eight days in our calendar.” After a moment’s pause Marsfield added: “Still thinking of the lost Nibbie, eh, Jellie? By Jove, old man, I should think the past two months would have driven him out of your mind.”

“No, I haven’t forgotten him,” replied the other, thoughtfully. Then he shook himself. “Much obliged, Marsfield. Come on, let’s join the others.”

Late that evening, in his room, Mr. Jellie took a piece of paper and made a calculation. It appeared simple enough, though cryptic, consisting merely of a sum of four figures:

He sat gazing at the figures on the paper until the minutes dragged into hours.

Ever since Mr. Jellie’s startling leap into the sphere of the masters all Grassview, members, caddies and pros, had been looking forward to an event which was now drawing near. It was discussed in the locker room, the caddie house, the library and the nineteenth hole. The opinion in all these places was the same, though expressed differently. In the caddie house: “Gee, Mr. Jellie kin lick them guys with nothin’ but a putter.” In the library: “Jellie’ll win sure. Hurrah for Jellie!”



The approaching event was the annual tournament for the amateur golf championship of the United States, to be held on the Baltusrol links, August 8 to 13.

But though the opinion at Grassview was unanimous, elsewhere it was divided. The papers of the Middle West said that Chick Evans was due to win the great prize that should have been his long before. Down East could see no one but Ouimet. In the Metropolitan district some picked Travers, saying that despite Jellie’s brilliancy he would probably falter under the gruelling strain of the National; but others, who had seen Jellie in action, favored his chances.