Bobby Jones put the ball on the tee, gave the club a simple flick before impact, then slowly retracted the club, followed by a lightning-fast downstroke. Does a random swipe of a 5-iron send the ball roaring over the hurdles and landing straight and squarely down the fourteenth hole of the course? No, far from it, it turned out badly, the ball skimmed the ground and landed firmly in the hazard pothole. The unenthusiastic spectators grunted in dismay, and the lone witness did not seem surprised at all.That's easy to explain, because it wasn't the golf ball hit by an American-born master golfer, but just the fourth son of a vicar who was born in the Welsh coastal town of Marchbolt.

Bobby unmistakably uttered a vulgar cry. He was a gentle-faced young man of about twenty-eight.His best friends thought him not handsome, but he had a remarkably pleasing face, and his eyes had the dependable affection of a brown dog's. "I'm getting worse," Bobby muttered despondently. "Hold on," said his companion. Dr. Thomas was a middle-aged man with gray hair and a red face.He himself never moves freely.He hit short straight balls down the center of the court, often beating better players who weren't playing normally. Bobby hit the ball hard with the No. 9 bat.The third time was a great success.The ball came to rest not far from the field where Dr. Thomas' wonderful two irons hit.

"It's your pussy," said Bobby. They went on to the next tee. The doctor hit the long field for the first time, a beautiful straight hit, but the ball didn't hit very far. Bobby sighed and teed the ball up again.He swung the bat for a long time, snapped it back, closed his eyes and looked up, bent his right shoulder, and did all of this that he wasn't supposed to do, and the result was a stunning blow down the middle of the field. He took a breath of satisfaction.The well-known golfer's scowl disappeared from his moving countenance, and in its place was the well-known golfer's ecstasy.

"I know what I'm doing now," said Bobby Bobby uncertainly. Perfect hit with the iron, a little bit of the near hole with the No. 5 iron, and Bobby's lie was really easy to hit.He made four and Dr. Thomas had one left. Bobby walked confidently to the sixteenth tee.He strikes again when he shouldn't have.This time no miracle happened.This is a fierce, brilliant, unconventional hook!The ball flies along the right corner. "If it's straight, tut!" said Dr. Thomas. "If," said Bobby bitterly, "hey, I think I hear a shout! I hope the ball doesn't hit anybody."

He gazes to the right.It was very dark.The sun was going down and it was almost impossible to see straight ahead.There was also a mist rising from the sea.The edge of the cliff was a few hundred yards away. "There's a walking track here," said Bobby, "but the ball can't go that far. I did hear a shout though, don't you?" But the doctor heard nothing. Bobby went looking for the ball, had trouble finding it, and finally found it.The ball fell into a clump of gorse, making it impossible to hit.He broke two twigs to pick up the ball and shouted to his partner that he forfeited.

Since the next tee was right on the edge of the cliff, the doctor walked towards Bobby. The seventeenth shot especially gave Bobby a headache.At this point he had to hit the ball far over the canyon.The actual distance is not very far away, but the attraction deep below is extremely difficult to resist. They crossed the walk, which now turned inland to their left, just near the edge of the cliff. The doctor hit the ball and the ball fell to the other side. Bobby took a deep breath and hit a long ball.The ball flew forward and disappeared over the edge of the abyss. "The ball flies around every shot," said Bobby bitterly. "I always do the same stupid thing."

He walked around the canyon and looked down. In the distance below, the sea waves shone, and no ball fell into the depths of the canyon.The top of the steep slope is very steep, but the lower part gradually slopes down. Bobby walked slowly.He knew there was a place to climb down fairly easily.The course's caddies do the same, pushing and tugging over the ledge to find lost balls, repeatedly triumphant and panting. Suddenly Bobby straightened up and called to his companions. "Doctor, come here, what do you see?" Forty yards away there was a dark heap that looked like old clothes.

The doctor held his breath. "By God!" he said, "someone's fallen off the cliff. We've got to go to him." The two climbed down the cliff side by side, with Bobby, who was stronger, helping his companion as he climbed.At last they came to this dark mass of strange things.It was a man in his forties, unconscious but still breathing. The doctor examined him, felt his limbs, pressed his pulse, and stroked his eyelids.After finishing his examination on his knees beside the man, he looked up at Bobby and shook his head.Bobby felt a little sick standing there. "It's hopeless," said the doctor, "he's dying, poor fellow. He's got a broken spine. Come, come. I guess he doesn't know the way, and the fog went over the edge. I Have told the authorities more than once that the railing should be built here."

He said and stood up again. "I'll call for help," he said, "and make arrangements to get him up. It's going to be dark before we know where we are. Will you stay here?" Bobby nodded. "There's nothing you can do about him, I suppose?" he asked. The doctor shook his head and said, "It can't be helped. It won't be too long, his pulse is getting weaker and weaker, and there are at most 20 minutes left. Before he dies, he may regain consciousness, but maybe not. Or... ..." "Okay," said Bobby quickly, "I'll stay here. You go your way. If he wakes up, there's no medicine or anything..." He hesitated.

The doctor shook his head again and said, "There will be no pain at all, not at all." The doctor turned away and climbed up the cliff again nimbly.Bobby watched him disappear before the cliff top and waved. Bobby took a step or two along the narrow ledge, sat down on a ledge of rock, and lit a cigarette.What happened shocked him, and he has not been exposed to any illness or death. Things in the world are so unlucky!On a sunny evening, a mist will descend unexpectedly. One wrong step, life will come to an end.This handsome, healthy guy probably didn't expect the catastrophe that would happen overnight.The paleness before death did not conceal the deep dark skin. He may be a person who has lived outdoors for a long time.Bobby studied the man more closely: a head of brown hair flowing upwards, grayish at the temples, a large nose, a thick jaw, white teeth from parted lips, broad shoulders, strong hands, Legs crossed strangely.Bobby shuddered and looked at the man's face again. It was an attractive face, with a sense of humor, a look of determination and energy.His eyes, he thought, might be blue...

Just as he thought of this, the man's eyes suddenly opened.It was indeed blue—pure blue.They were looking directly at Bobby, without flickering or clouding, and seemed perfectly sane.The eyes are concerned and at the same time seem suspicious. Bobby got up quickly and approached the man.Before he approached, the man spoke, his voice was not weak, it was clear and resonant. "Why didn't they hire Evans?" the man said. Then, a strange shudder ran through the man's body, his eyelids drooped, his jaw slack... The man is dead.