Bunny looked up at him, and in a moment, like the flash of sunshine from behind a cloud, he was smiling. "Oh, get out, Jake. I suppose you're going to wipe the floor with me now. I didn't mean it and I'm sorry. Let's get on from there!"
His hand gripped Jake's hard. There was something very winning about him at the moment, something that appealed strongly to the older man though he did not instantly reply. He kept the boy's hand in his for a moment, and his eyes were very kindly as he looked into the thin young face.
"Guess you know I'm pretty fond of you, my son," he said at length, "but
I don't figure to let you go to the devil unhindered on that account."
Bunny whistled. "Who's going? Oh, don't be an ass, Jake, will you?"
"No, I won't," said Jake, "at least not the soft variety. Reckon I've been too soft with you, Bunny, as long as I've known you."
Bunny stirred restlessly in his chair. "Think so?" he said. "Well, it's a good fault, old chap. I can't stand bullying from anyone—makes me see red at once."
"I know," Jake said. "I've never bullied you anyway. But I'm on the war-path now, and you've got to take your physic whether you like it or not. Say, Bunny, how much money did you drop at the races this afternoon?"
"What's that to you?" said Bunny.
Jake's face hardened a little. "Well, I expected that," he said. "Afraid to tell me, eh?"
"Not in the least afraid," said Bunny. "I dispute your right to know, that's all."