"That's right. I forgot that. Well, my pater had an orchestrion put in the drawing-room. One of these automatic things you switch on, you know. Makes a devil of a row. Bennett can't stand it, and Mortimer insists on playing it all day. Well, they hotted up a goodish bit over that." "Well, I don't see how all this affects you. If they want to scrap, why not let them?" "Yes, but, you see, the most frightful thing has happened. At least, it hasn't happened yet, but it may any day. Bennett's talking about taking legal advice to see if he can't induce Mortimer to cheese it by law as he can't be stopped any other way. And the deuce of it is, your father's Bennett's legal representative over in England, and he's sure to go to him." "Well, that'll do the pater a bit of good. Legal fees." Eustace Hignett waved his arms despairingly at his cousin's obtuseness. "But don't you see? If Bennett goes to your father about this binge, your father will get onto the fact that Windles has been let, and he'll nose about and make enquiries, and the first thing that'll happen will be that mother will get to hear of it, and then where shall I be?" Sam pondered. "Yes, there's that," he admitted. "Well, now you see what a hole I'm in." "Yes, you are. What are you going to do about it?" "You're the only person who can help me." "What can _I_ do?" "Why, your father wants you to join the firm, doesn't he? Well, for goodness sake, buck up and join it. Don't waste a minute. Dash up to London by the next train, and sign on. Then, if Bennett does blow in for advice, you can fix it somehow that he sees you instead of your father, and it'll be all right. You can easily work it. Get the office-boy or somebody to tell Bennett that your father's engaged, but that you are on the spot. He won't mind so long as he sees somebody in the firm." "But I don't know anything about the law. What shall I say to him?" "That's all right. I've been studying it up a bit. As far as I can gather, this legal advice business is quite simple. Anything that isn't a tort is a misdemeanour. You've simply got to tell old Bennett that in your opinion the whole thing looks jolly like a tort." "What's the word again?" "Tort." "What does it mean?" "I don't know. Probably nobody knows. But it's a safe card to play. Tort. Don't forget it." "Tort. Right ho!" "Well, then, come along and pack your things. There's a train to London in about an hour." They walked back to the hotel. Sam gulped once or twice. "Oh, by the way," he said, "Er--how is--er--Miss Bennett?" "Oh, she's all right." Eustace Hignett hummed a gay air. Sam's ready acquiescence in his scheme had relieved his apprehensive mind. "Going strong?" said Sam, after a pause.