it just as much as I did. And she wouldn't let me give it up to get a regular job. Once golfing gets in your blood, you can't get rid of it. She knew that and understood. Then when she found out about the baby, she was as proud and happy as a little kid at Christmas. He was going to have my eyes and nose, but he would have her hair. She planned it all, even to my winning this tournament; but she didn't plan on what really happened." He was silent for a long time, then he said, "Do you see why I don't feel much like finishing the tournament?" Yeah, I can see that, Nubby; but do you want to ruin all her plans?" "You mean about winning?" "That's what I mean. I don't want to sound like one of those silver-tongued orators, but wouldn't it be kind of nice to win it for her." "That would be a pretty swell birthday present for the kid $10,000." From the way the life started back in his eyes, I knew that he'd finish the final round. I opened the car door and waited for him to climb out. "The round starts in five minutes, better hurry and get your sticks." As we walked through the crowded club house I got separated from Nubby and found myself facing a cynical Stacey. "So you talked him into finishing, eh?" "Yeah, mind?" "No." He took out a handkerchief and mopped his moist brow. "Some people sure hate to lose fifty bucks." I don't think I've ever been so burned up in my life. Without even a preliminary word, my fist shot out and my knuckles sank into the flabby flesh of his chin. Rubbing my fist, I went out to watch the final round. If I hadn't known that there was a change in Nubby, I never would have been able to see it. He was just as calm, but perhaps his head was held just a little higher than before. Before his shots had been true, but now they seemed to know exactly where to find the cup. Hogan's game was superb, but I didn't doubt for one minute the eventual outcome. On the eighteenth green, the photographers were all set up, and the officials were shining the huge trophy that was already so brilliant it hurt your eyes. The spectators were straining against the ropes, and when Hogan and Nubby sank their final puts, putting Hogan at 65 and Nubby at 63, they went mildly mad. Just before they presented him with the trophy, Stacey came up rubbing his chin and good naturedly handed me fifty bucks. "Your dark horse did right well for himself." "Thanks, Stacey. Hogan didn't let you down. But you just can't compete with Nubby's kid." CORPORAL COURAGEOUS (Continued from Page 15) pounded us unceasingly, but we had become so used to the bombs and grenades that we paid little attention to them. "The grenadiers were quietly eating their ration while the gunners were firing off the eight-pounders regularly and with such accurate aim that Miramon is said to have believed the furies were served by Americans. Our gunners were all 'made in Vera Cruz.' "Suddenly a bomb plunged right down into our midst, partly embedding itself in the leveled ground; the outwork was constructed of earth and sandbags. The boys all threw themselves down on their faces. The projectile whirled around in the hole it had dug out, hissing and sputtering as though it were some live and malevolent thing. "I remained standing, not through bravado, but because I felt rooted to the spot, for I noted some powder barrels near us which the gunners had been using. I grasped the imminent danger of being blown to atoms, and I was overcome with fear. Yes, I was afraid, horribly afraid, in the daytime, in a fortified enclosure where there were no dead men but many living ones. I experienced one of those nightmare terrors that paralyze us, deadening even the instinct of self-preservation so that we cannot even fly from the danger. It is true that this only lasted a moment, the time of a lightening flash. But in that moment I saw a man of athletic build spring up, approach the bomb, seize it, carry it in his hands to the parapet, and drop it outside into the ditch. "We heard a frightful explosion. There was a moment of silence and amazement. The first shock over, we touched ourselves to make sure that we were still alive and unhurt. Then our eyes turned to the man who had so heroically saved us. We saw him sitting on a gun-carriage quietly eating his ration, as though nothing out of the common had happened. "That man was Corporal Felipe Luna, the soldier who was afraid of ghosts. "So you see, gentlemen, courage is a very queer thing." YOU By Cadet James R. Lewis A whisper in the dark I love you . . . And stars with subtle charm Above you . . . You say to me in dreams, I love you . . . And everywhere, it seems, I hear you . . . Mirage-like in the air, I see you . . . Your face and gleaming hair, I love you . . . Though you have never been I know you . . . And when at last we meet, I'll love you . . . page twenty-four NATIONAL SCHOLASTIC PRESS ASSOCIATION EST. 1921 Member 1941-42