Argosy All-Story Weekly, June 13, 1925 — page 147: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

By JAMES KEVIN McGUINNESS R. ARTHUR MONFRENT, SR., Vi was the Nathan Hale of golf, his sole regret being that he had but one life to give to his country club. He sat, of a lovely March evening, on the deserted veranda of the Rockledge House, contemplating the niceties and the disappointments of mashie play. The younger set had flocked to a dance at Cocoa, a mile away, leaving the wide, shad- owed spaces overlooking the shimmering In- dian River to Mr. Monfrent’s unfamiliar guardianship. He gazed languidly across at Merrit Isl- and, his eyes following the silver pathway of moonbeams to the tufted silhouettes of palm trees on the other shore. But the Floridian scenery held no arresting beauty for him. His mental vision was much more acute than his physical sight, and this former was concerned with picturing a gen- tleman of about forty-eight years pitching a 619 beautiful approach shot over towering hazards to within three feet of the pin. Since the hero of the exploit was Mr. Mon- frent, himself, nature could construct no scenic charms so alluring as this. ‘“* Good evening,” said a soft voice. Mr. Monfrent did not turn until the mashie pitch he had just made—mentally—trickled leisurely toward the green and—yes, by George!—flopped in. A three! A birdie three! ‘Glorious evening, Mrs. Gerhard,’ he greeted, scarcely resenting her presence. Had he not been thinking of golf, her ap- pearance would have been positively wel- come. He drew up a wicker chair for her. It was odd that they should have run across each other in Rockledge. Mr. Mon- frent had chosen the town for his winter so- journ because it was not as yet a haunt for vacationists. In Nassau, or Havana, or Palm Beach, or Miami, he would have en- SS 1e@) Comic ordoo