There fell a brief silence, then from his post by the window Jake spoke. "You can do as you like about it. You can come back with me to the Stables. But you'll do all your riding on a leading-string if you do. And if you hunt, it'll be on foot."
Bunny's face flamed scarlet. "Jake, you're a beast!" he said.
"Oh, I can do beastlier things than that," Jake said. "I can give you one hell of a time, my son. I'm dashed ingenious in that respect when I give my mind to it."
Bunny growled something deep in his throat, and kicked the coals with a savage foot.
Jake turned deliberately round, and looked at him, watched him with the utmost patience till he desisted; then,
"Come here now," he said, "and have your head punched!"
Bunny growled again less articulately, more ferociously.
Jake left the window. The boy wheeled to meet him with the glare of a tiger. "Touch me if you dare!" he exclaimed.
There was a faint, relentless smile on Jake's face. He took Bunny by the shoulders, and looked him full and straight in the eyes.
Bunny stood before him for a space, with clenched hands. Then he dropped his own eyes sullenly before that stern regard--slowly lowered his head. There fell a tense silence; then: "Get on with it, Jake!" he said in a voice half-sulky, half-submissive. And Jake abruptly moved, struck him twice lightly on the side of the head. "That's for using the forbidden language," he said. "And that's for general fooling around. A taste of the leather would do you good, only I can't leather a jolly little cock-sparrow like you. Don't you think you're rather a fool, Bunny? I do."