"Hal, my boy," he said lowering his voice, "how much money in solid cash do you think this wretched man has cost me?" The importance in his father’s tone impressed the young man. "A million?" he hazarded. Sir Harry was annoyed, with the annoyance of a bargain hunter whose purchase is undervalued by an appraising friend. "Don’t be a fool!" he begged, "a million! Do you think I could sit down and tamely submit to the loss of a million? No——" Hal made another guess. "A thousand?" "Sixty thousand," said his father impressively, "sixty thousand pounds or three hundred thousand dollars!" Hal whistled. "Absolutely taken out of my pocket, just as though the scoundrel had broken in to ’Hydeholme’ and stolen it!" Sir Harry did not think it necessary to explain that the sum in question was the Duke’s lawful property, and that his crime had consisted in establishing his legal claim to it. "I need hardly say," Sir Harry went on "that if Alicia marries this person, it will be without my approval. Indeed I must seriously consider the question of altering the terms of my will." He said this very gravely. "Were you leaving her much, governor?" Sir Harry coughed. "It is not so much a question of actual value as the thought behind the legacy," he explained; "one should not measure love by the standard of value received, but by the sentiment which inspires the gift—I have often regretted," he added thoughtfully, "that the practise of bequeathing mourning rings has gone out of fashion—they were inexpensive but effective." Hal yawned. "What about this Duke feller?" he demanded. Sir Harry pursed his lips. "He is on his way back—arrives at Liverpool to-morrow. Out first business is to clear him out of Brockley. To make the place too hot to hold him. He has chosen to match his wits against mine, to range himself with my—er—opponents. He shall discover that I am not to be despised." There was something very complacent in Sir Harry’s review of the situation that aroused the admiration of his son. "He’ll find you’re a bit of a nut to crack, governor," he said. Sir Harry smiled not ill-pleased with the implied compliment. "If you will sit down, Hal, I will outline my plan of campaign." Hal sat down. II _The Lewisham and Lee Mail with which is incorporated the Catford Advertiser_—to give the newspaper its fullest title—is a journal well worthy of perusal. You may think, you superior folk who are connected with Fleet Street journalism, that outside of high politics, wars and sensational divorce cases, nothing interests the general reader—but you are mistaken. There is a column in the _Lewisham and Lee Mail_ sapiently headed "On Dit" and wittily signed "I Noe" (which really is a subtle play on the words "I know" and as such, distinctly clever). I give you a clipping and reproduce it as nearly as possible in facsimile. ON DIT.