The Clicking of Cuthbert

"Certainly."

"I am provisionally engaged to Mr. Jopp."

"Provisionally?"

She gulped.

"Let me tell you my story. Mr. Jopp asked me to marry him, and I would

rather do anything on earth than marry him. But how could I say 'No!'

with those awful eyes of his boring me through? I knew that if I said

'No', he would argue me out of it in two minutes. I had an idea. I

gathered that he had never played golf, so I told him that I would

marry him if he won the Amateur Championship this year. And now I find

that he has been a golfer all along, and, what is more, a plus man! It

isn't fair!"

"He was not a golfer when you made that condition," I said. "He took up

the game on the following day."

"Impossible! How could he have become as good as he is in this short

time?"

"Because he is Vincent Jopp! In his lexicon there is no such word as

impossible."

She shuddered.

"What a man! But I can't marry him," she cried. "I want to marry

somebody else. Oh, won't you help me? Do shout 'Boo!' at him when he is

starting his down-swing!"

I shook my head.

"It would take more than a single 'boo' to put Vincent Jopp off his

stroke."

"But won't you try it?"

"I cannot. My duty is to my employer."

"Oh, do!"

"No, no. Duty is duty, and paramount with me. Besides, I have a bet on

him to win."

The stricken girl uttered a faint moan, and tottered away.

       *       *       *       *       *

I was in our suite shortly after dinner that night, going over some of

the notes I had made that day, when the telephone rang. Jopp was out at

the time, taking a short stroll with his after-dinner cigar. I unhooked

the receiver, and a female voice spoke.

"Is that Mr. Jopp?"

"Mr. Jopp's secretary speaking. Mr. Jopp is out."

"Oh, it's nothing important. Will you say that Mrs. Luella Mainprice

Jopp called up to wish him luck? I shall be on the course tomorrow to

see him win the final."

I returned to my notes. Soon afterwards the telephone rang again.

"Vincent, dear?"

"Mr. Jopp's secretary speaking."

"Oh, will you say that Mrs. Jane Jukes Jopp called up to wish him luck?

I shall be there tomorrow to see him play."

I resumed my work. I had hardly started when the telephone rang for the

third time.

"Mr. Jopp?"

"Mr. Jopp's secretary speaking."

"This is Mrs. Agnes Parsons Jopp. I just called up to wish him luck. I

shall be looking on tomorrow."

I shifted my work nearer to the telephone-table so as to be ready for

the next call. I had heard that Vincent Jopp had only been married

three times, but you never knew.

Presently Jopp came in.

"Anybody called up?" he asked.

"Nobody on business. An assortment of your wives were on the wire

wishing you luck. They asked me to say that they will be on the course

tomorrow."

For a moment it seemed to me that the man's iron repose was shaken.

"Luella?" he asked.

"She was the first."

"Jane?"

"And Jane."

"And Agnes?"

"Agnes," I said, "is right."

"H'm!" said Vincent Jopp. And for the first time since I had known him

I thought that he was ill at ease.

       *       *       *       *       *

The day of the final dawned bright and clear. At least, I was not awake

at the time to see, but I suppose it did; for at nine o'clock, when I

came down to breakfast, the sun was shining brightly. The first

eighteen holes were to be played before lunch, starting at eleven.

Until twenty minutes before the hour Vincent Jopp kept me busy taking

dictation, partly on matters connected with his wheat deal and partly

on a signed article dealing with the Final, entitled "How I Won." At

eleven sharp we were out on the first tee.

Jopp's opponent was a nice-looking young man, but obviously nervous. He

giggled in a distraught sort of way as he shook hands with my employer.

"Well, may the best man win," he said.

"I have arranged to do so," replied Jopp, curtly, and started to

address his ball.

There was a large crowd at the tee, and, as Jopp started his

down-swing, from somewhere on the outskirts of this crowd there came

suddenly a musical "Boo!" It rang out in the clear morning air like a

bugle.

I had been right in my estimate of Vincent Jopp. His forceful stroke

never wavered. The head of his club struck the ball, despatching it a

good two hundred yards down the middle of the fairway. As we left the

tee I saw Amelia Merridew being led away with bowed head by two members

of the Greens Committee. Poor girl! My heart bled for her. And yet,

after all, Fate had been kind in removing her from the scene, even in

custody, for she could hardly have borne to watch the proceedings.

Vincent Jopp made rings round his antagonist. Hole after hole he won in

his remorseless, machine-like way, until when lunch-time came at the

end of the eighteenth he was ten up. All the other holes had been

halved.

It was after lunch, as we made our way to the first tee, that the

advance-guard of the Mrs. Jopps appeared in the person of Luella

Mainprice Jopp, a kittenish little woman with blond hair and a

Pekingese dog. I remembered reading in the papers that she had divorced

my employer for persistent and aggravated mental cruelty, calling

witnesses to bear out her statement that he had said he did not like