"I see." Jake regarded him with a very direct scrutiny. "I'm to be kept in my place, is that it?"
Bunny coloured. "That's the fourth time you've called me a bounder since we came in. What do you mean by it, Jake?"
"What do I mean?" Jake spoke rather sadly. "Well, maybe that's just what
I do mean, Bunny. You're beginning to bound."
"Rot!" said Bunny, though he coloured more deeply than before. "You know there isn't another fellow anywhere that I respect as I respect you. But—dash it, Jake!—you must let me grow."
"I want you to," said Jake. "But for the Lord's sake, grow straight!" He reached out and took Bunny by the shoulder. "I'm going to ask a big thing of you, sonny, but I guess I shall know by the way you take it how much your respect for me is worth."
"What is it?" said Bunny.
"Just this." Jake leaned forward; there was speculation in his look. "I want you to chuck racing—altogether—for a year. There!"
"Chuck racing!" Bunny sat up very straight. "Jake! Why on earth should
I?"
Jake's hand closed upon him. He was smiling a little but there was something relentless behind his smile. "Oh, just to please me," he said. "That's all."
Bunny stared at him. "Chuck racing!" he said again. "Jake, you're mad!"