The funny thing was, the US. Open was actually less commercialized than most tourneys. At least they hadn't sold their name yet. Other tournaments were named for sponsors and the names had gotten a little silly, Who could get up for winning the JC Penney Open or the Michelob Open or even the Wendy's Three-Tour Challenge?

The old man led him to a primo parking lot, Mercedeses, Caddies. limos. Myron spotted Win`s Jaguar.

The USGA had recently put up a sign that read MEMBERS PARKING ONLY.

Myron said, "'You`re a member of Merion." Dr. Deduction.

The old man twisted the neck thing into something approaching a nod. "My family dates back to Merion's inception." he said. The snooty accent now more pronounced.

"Just like your friend Win."

Myron stopped and looked at the man. "You know Win?"

The old man sort of smiled and shrugged. No commitment.

"You haven't told me your name yet," Myron said.

"Stone Buckwell," he said, hand extended. "Everyone calls me Bucky."

Myron shook the hand.

"l'm also Linda Coldren's father," he added.

Bucky unlocked a sky blue Cadillac and they slid inside.

He put the key in the ignition. The radio played Muzak-- worse. The Muzak version of "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head. " Myron quickly opened the window for air. Not to mention noise.

Only members were allowed to park on the Merion grounds, so it wasn't too much of a hassle getting out.

They made a right at the end of the driveway and then another right. Bucky mercifully flipped off the radio. Myron stuck his head back in the car.

"What do you know about my daughter and her husband?"

Bucky asked.

"Not much."

"You are not a golf fan. are you. Mr. Boiitar?"

"Not really."

"Golf" is truly a magnificent sport." he said. Then he added. `"Though the word sport does not begin to do it justice."

"Uh-huh." Myron said.

"lt's the game of princes." Buckwell's ruddy face glowed a bit now. The eyes wide with the same type of rapture one saw in the very religious. His voice was low and awed. "There is nothing quite like it. you know. You alone against the course. No excuses. No teammate. No bad calls. lt`s the purest of activities."

"Uh-huh," Myron said again. "Look. l don't want to appear rude. Mr. Buckwell, but what's this all about?"

"Please call me Bucky."

"Okay. Bucky."

He nodded his approval. "l understand that you and Windsor Lockwood are more than business associates."

he said.

"Meaning?"'

l understand you two go back a long way. College roommates, am l correct?"

"Why do you keep asking about Win?"

"I actually came to the club to find him," Bucky said.

"But l think it`s better this way."

"What way'?

"Talking to you first. Maybe after . , . well, we'll see. Shouldn`t hope for too much."

Myron nodded. 'l have no idea what you're talking about."

Bucky turned onto a road adjacent to the course called Golf House Road. Golfers were so creative.