Robert Britt got waved over across Washington Road to the traffic island in the middle of Azalea Drive.
``You wanna pay $50?'' asked Bob Teskie of Atlanta, who had been standing there for about an hour with a finger pointed up, signaling his search for a ticket. Then Mr. Teskie gestured to a man in a straw hat holding one blue practice-round ticket for this week's Masters Tournament.
``Thanks for pointing him out,'' Mr. Britt said as he handed the man in the hat $50. Twenty feet behind them, a Richmond County sheriff's deputy leaned on the traffic control box and appeared not to notice.
``To me, it's worth it,'' said Mr. Britt, 50, of Myrtle Beach, S.C. ``I've been a caddy all my life. We just wanted to see the course.''
Mr. Teskie nodded and continued his vigil for a cheaper ticket, closer to the $16 face value. Up and down Washington Road on either side of him, hundreds of men held fingers in the air, waiting for a deal. And moving around them were mostly young men looking to sell.
``It's just like fishing,'' said Glen Grissom, 63, of Columbus, Miss., waiting for his friend to score a ticket. ``You've got to go up where they're biting best.''
Undercover officers took a small bite out of the action when they arrested a 16-year-old who attempted to sell a practice-round ticket for $100, said Richmond County sheriff's Chief Deputy Ronald Strength. Officers seized $3,700 from the youth, who was from the Atlanta area, charged him in juvenile court and released him to his parents.
Otherwise, fishing was good for the young men in the sunglasses with the cellular telephones. Two were standing beneath an awning near Azalea Drive when two older men wearing the blue badges waved two extras at them.
``You're not cops, are you?'' one older man asked. The scalpers shook their heads. ``I'm not looking to make a living on this,'' the older man said as he tucked three $20 bills into his pocket.
Within 15 seconds, another man walked up and wanted two badges from the young scalpers. They melted around the corner and a minute later the buyer appeared, poorer by $175.
``They wanted $200 and I wanted to pay $150. We flipped a coin on it and I lost,'' said the buyer, who wanted to give his name as ``John Smith.''
If Monday's price seemed high, wait until today, when the expected scalping price will be around $200, said a 16-year-old scalper, ``John Doe,'' who was working for his father's ticket-brokering company.
``Tuesday's the best day right now,'' he said. ``I got $250 for one Tuesday.''
Other scalpers were quoting $225 for a Tuesday ticket and $200 for a Wednesday ticket, with Tuesday becoming more valuable because of a ceremony honoring golf legend Jack Nicklaus.
The crowds were a little thin Monday, which may have kept prices down for Monday's tickets, and ``they expect it to rain Wednesday so people are getting rid'' of their tickets to Wednesday's practice round, said the young scalper.
After selling three badges across the street from a deputy, the young man just grinned when asked about police.
``They don't bother you unless you get out into the street,'' he said. ``As long as you don't stop traffic, you're OK.''
Prices fluctuated wildly Monday morning, with amateur scalpers selling their extras for $40 to $50 and professional ticket salesmen wanting $75 to $100.
After passing up one earlier for $70, John, Scott and some buddies from Texas decided to deal for three at $75 each. All three men pulled out fans of cash and the deal quickly began to resemble a scam from the movie Paper Moon.
The scalper claimed he didn't have change, so the three went back and forth.
``You got a ten?''
``All I have are $20s.''
After some finagling, the scalper was staring down at the money in his hand for a minute before it dawned on him.
``I still need five dollars,'' he said.
Nobody had a five. The three men dug into their pockets and flipped open their wallets until finally five ones appeared.
``It's a little steep,'' admitted Scott, 33, who would not give his last name. ``But we're impatient, so you know...'' said John, 31.
The open-air market seemed to bring everyone in.
While they waited to buy, many of those needing badges were upset at the system that had them at the mercy of small-time hustlers.
``I just wish there was some way of preventing those guys from making a profit from people who just want to see the golf course,'' said Ben Ford, 51, of Spartanburg, S.C., as he held up one finger on the corner of Eisenhower Drive. Nevertheless, he broke down and coughed up $50.
And after watching scalpers gobble up the tickets he had been waiting three hours to get, J.R. Huntsinger, 66, can see himself going home to Montgomery, Ala., empty-handed.
``They're willing to pay top dollar,'' he said sadly. And unfortunately, he can't.