Calling to the dog, the Sub left the court. Not until he was several streets away did he give vent to his pent-up feelings of delight.
"Well, old girl," he exclaimed, "you've saved my Flirt. By Jove, it was a rotten trick, though! I wouldn't have done it if that skunk hadn't tried to make me do an underhand job. He forced my hand. It was for Flirt's sake."
Had Fordyce known the true facts his qualms of conscience would not have troubled him in the least. As it was, the knowledge that he had won by means of a piece of sharp practice was not in accord with his instincts as an officer and a gentleman.
"Well?" enquired his father laconically.
"Verdict against Mindiggle, with costs," replied Noel.
"Dash it all!" exclaimed Mr. Fordyce when his son had told him of what had occurred. "You young scoundrel, I've half a mind to write to Mindiggle and explain. In any case, I'm not going to be saddled with Flirt while you're away. You'll have to find another home for her."
"Very well, Dad," replied Noel quietly, knowing that in such matters his parent's word was law.
It was Mr. Fordyce's decision that prevented Noel confiding in him concerning the interview with Mindiggle. In spite of his sense of independence the young officer was anxious to obtain advice on the matter, but now another possible chance was denied him.
"Hang it all!" he soliloquized. "I suppose it will keep a bit longer. The main point is that I didn't agree to the sweep's proposals, and I've scored heavily off my own bat. I'll spin the yarn to the Honourable Derek when we are making our passage to the Baltic. Let me see; what is that address? I have it: 'Klostivitch, 19, Bobbinsky Prospekt'. I'll jot it down in case I forget. It may come in handy. And now there's Flirt to consider. It won't do to send her to a place in Otherport; she'll be nipping somebody—Mindiggle again for a dead cert—and I'll find that she's been poisoned when I return. I'll run her over to Billy's show this afternoon. He'll look after her, I know."
Billy was Noel's cousin, a captain of the Loamshire Light Infantry, who, after being thrice wounded slightly, had been buried by a shell at Messines. He was now given home service, and was unlikely to be again sent abroad.