A handful of old golf historians worked for years to turn Rock's house into a golf museum, a structure that would celebrate the early days of the game in the United States. They tried to make it look like a nineteenth-century clubhouse but had apparently fallen short with the pro shop. All of the clubs in it were relatively modern. Only one—a putter—dated back more than fifteen years.
Rock gradually began to understand that his job had been to acquire the clubs. Obviously, he had made no effort in that regard. He realized he was in big trouble and that the men would arrive soon. All he knew to do was to let his restless, nearly panicked cat Joe go outside.
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