CHAPTER III.
OUTFIELD WEST.
It was several moments before West recovered his breath enough to speak, during which time he sat and gazed at his rescuer in amazement not unmixed with curiosity.

And the rescuer looked down at West in simple amusement.
"Thanks," gasped West at length.

"I suppose I'd have broke my silly neck if you hadn't given me a hand just when you did." The other nodded.

"You're welcome, of course; but I don't believe you'd have been very much hurt.

What's that thing ?" nodding toward the brassie, still tightly clutched in West's hand.
"A bras--a golf club.