"But is not justice the heritage of the poor?" Mr. Telfer asked. "In theory it is so, no doubt; but not in practice. To get justice in these days, you must spend a fortune in lawyers' fees--and probably you won't get it then. But the poor have no fortune to spend." "I'll admit that going to law is a very expensive business; but what is one to do?" "Grin and abide." "Oh, but that is cowardly!" "It may be so. And yet, I do not see much heroism in running your head against a stone wall." "But is it manly to sit down quietly and be robbed?" "That all depends on who the robbers are. If there are ten to one, I should say it would be the wisest policy to submit." "I admit that the company is a powerful one. But it is a question with me whether they have any right to the stuff at all. Their sett extends from the line of Cowley's farm westward; but their tip has come a quarter of a mile eastward. For years past they have had to pay for the right of tipping their waste. In point of law, it isn't their stuff at all. It isn't even on their land--the land belongs to Daniel Rickard." "That may be quite true," Ralph answered; "but I can't think that will help us very much." "Why not?" "Because I heard this morning they were negotiating with Daniel for the purchase of his little freehold." Mr. Telfer looked grave. "In any case," he said, "I would get counsel's opinion. Why not run up to London and consult Sir John Liskeard? He is our member, you know, and in your case his charge would not be excessive. You can afford to spend something to know where you stand. I believe in dying game." And with a wave of his hand, Mr. Telfer marched away. Two days later Ralph got a second letter from the chairman of the Brick, Tile, and Clay Company which was much less conciliatory in tone. In fact, it intimated, in language too plain to be misunderstood, that the company held him guilty of trespass, and that by continuing his work after the previous intimation he was rendering himself liable to an action at law. Ralph toiled over the fields towards his home in a brown study. That the letter was only bluff he knew, but it seemed clear enough that if he resisted, the company was determined to fight the case in a court of law. What to do for the best he could not decide. To fight the case would probably ruin him, for even if he won, he would have to spend all his savings in law expenses. To throw up the sponge at the outset would certainly look cowardly. The only other alternative would be to try to make terms with the company, to acknowledge their right, and to offer to pay for every ton of stuff he used.