The rough and shrubbery of Interlachen Country Club near Minneapolis was last week sowed with pop bottles. Another fatted calf met its death in Atlanta. Throughout the land, professional men shook their heads once more at the thought of the money—$50,000 at very least—which one of them might have made in the next twelve-month if only Robert Tyre Jones Jr., amateur, would not continue to be the world's most mechanical, most imperturbable, most brilliant golfer.
Interlachen is not a particularly long course (6,672 yd.) but it is...
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