He was contemptuously surprised therefore when, three weeks later, Ned received a document headed ‘High Courts of Justice. Winch _versus_ Bowden.’ It claimed five hundred pounds from him for breach of his promise of marriage. An outlandish trick, indeed--with the war on too! Couldn’t Ned please himself as to what girl he’d take? Bowden was for putting it in the fire. But the more the two examined the document the more hypnotised they became. Lawyers were no use except to charge money--but, perhaps, a lawyer ought to have a look at it. On market day, therefore, they took it to Applewhite of Applewhite and Carter, who subjected them to a prolonged catechism. Had Ned engaged himself to the girl? Well, yes, he supposed he had. How had he broken off the engagement--had he written to the girl? No. Well, had he received letters from her asking him what was the matter? Yes; two. Had he answered them? No. Had he seen the girl and done it by word of mouth? No. He had not seen the girl for ten weeks. Was he prepared to see the girl or write to her? He was not. Was he ready to marry her? No. Why was that? Ned looked at his father; and Bowden looked at Ned. The girl Pansy had never been mentioned between them. Mr. Applewhite repeated his question. Ned did not know. According to the lawyer, if Ned did not know, nobody knew. What had caused the change in his feelings? It was Bowden who answered: “He shot my dog.” “Who?” “Steer.” Mr. Applewhite was unable to see the connection. If that was all, he was afraid young Mr. Bowden would either have to marry the girl or ‘stand to be shot at’ himself. And suddenly he looked at Ned. “Is there anything against this girl?” No, there was nothing against her. “Then why not marry her?” Again Ned shook his bullet head. The lawyer smoothed his chin--he was a pleasant fellow, and a good fisherman. “About this young lady, Miss Winch; excuse my asking, but I suppose you haven’t been putting the cart before the horse?” For the third time Ned shook his head. No, there had been nothing of that sort. He did not add that if there had he might not have been overmastered by the propinquity of the girl Pansy. “There’s another girl in this, I suppose,” said the lawyer suddenly; “well, I don’t want to hear. It’s for you to decide what you’ll do--marry the girl or defend the action and get the damages reduced--it’s a stiff claim. You and your father had better go away, talk it over again, and let me know. If you defend, you’ll have to go up to London. In the box, least said is soonest mended. You’ll simply say you found you were mistaken, and thought it more honourable to break off at once than to go on. That sometimes goes down rather well with juries, if the man looks straightforward.” The Bowdens went away. Steer passed them on the journey home. He was alone, driving that mare of his. The Bowdens grinned faintly as he went by. Then Bowden called out two words: “Stickin’ plaster!”