"Come on, Patch!" he cried quickly. The approach of the car made him anxious. The terrier, he knew, had crossed the road, and there was something about this particular reach of metalling that tempted motorists to pass at the deuce of a pace. The car sailed on. It was fifty paces away, when Anthony heard Patch flouncing through the undergrowth in response to his call. In another second the terrier would take his customary flying leap from the bank on to the road--on the same side as the car.... In a flash, Anthony was full in its path, spreading out signalling arms. The tires were tearing at the macadam as Patch leaped into the road and, missing his footing, stumbled on to his nose twenty-five paces ahead. Anthony ran up to the car, hat in hand. "I'm awfully sorry," he said. "My dog was coming, and I couldn't stop him. I'd called him before I saw you. I was afraid he'd be run over." The fresh-faced youth at the wheel stared at him. "That's all right, sir," he grinned. "How are you? You don't remember me, Every. Met you at Saddle Tree Cross--huntin'. Valerie French introduced us." "Of course," said Anthony. "I remember you perfectly. Are you all right?" "Goin' strong, thanks." He turned to a girl at his side. "Joan, let me introduce Major Lyveden--my sister." Anthony bowed. "We're goin' down to Evesham to see some spaniel pups. Are you livin' down here, sir?" Anthony indicated his cabin with a smile. "That's my house," he said. "I've turned forester, and I'm working on this estate." "But how priceless," said Joan. "If I were a man, that's just what I'd----" "Yes," said her brother. "I can see you gettin' up at dawn an' hewin' down trees an' things with a bead-bag on your wrist an'----" "I said 'if I was a man,'" protested Joan. "I said..." The argument waxed, and Anthony began to laugh. So soon as he could get a word in-- "I mustn't keep you," he said. Peter Every glanced at his watch. "Twenty-past twelve!" he cried. "George, no! I'll have to put her along. I suppose you won't come on and lunch with us, sir? We'd love it, and we can drop you here on the way back." "Yes, do," urged Joan. Anthony shook his head. "You're very kind," he said, smiling, "but I've any amount to do. When you live alone, and you've only one day a week..." "I'm sorry," said Every. "Still, if you won't..." He let in the clutch. "Good-bye," said Anthony. "Good-bye," cried the others. The car slid forward. A moment later, arrived at the top of the hill, it dropped over the crest and sank out of sight. * * * * * It was twelve days later that Mr. Peter Every found his cake to be dough. Taking advantage of a general invitation, issued when he was six years old, he had asked himself to Bell Hammer ostensibly to enjoy a day's hunting, but in reality with the express intention of inviting Miss Valerie French to become his lady-wife.