"It's my own fault," continued the major gloomily, "but I was, so to speak, rushed into it. You see, the day after you'd brought down that 'Zep.' I strolled into the club smoking-room and found everyone talking of your exploit. I kept out of it as long as I could, naturally, but when Sir John Carver started in to declare that it was nothing more than an accident, a mere stroke of luck, I got angry. Sir John, though he's as rich as Crœsus, knows no more about aviation than I do about soap-boiling, which, I believe, was his profession at one time. So I took up the challenge, and for a time we argued the matter up and down.
"He couldn't refute my professional knowledge, of course; so at last, finding he was getting the worst of it, he stuck his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat in that detestable manner of his and said, 'I'll bet you a thousand pounds that your nephew doesn't bring down another Zeppelin within a year.' On the impulse of the moment I, like a fool, said 'Done!' and the bet was clinched there and then."
The major stopped, and there was a long and constrained pause.
"Well, uncle," said Lawless presently, "you certainly were a mug."
"It was all due," answered the major, "to arguing with a man who is not a gentleman."
They both relapsed into silence again. The major was not exactly a poor man, but a thousand pounds, especially in wartime, is—well, a thousand pounds, and the old gentleman, as Lawless was well aware, could not afford to lose such a sum.
"So," remarked the Lieutenant after a while, "it's up to me to see that you don't lose that thou., uncle?"
"I don't say that, my boy, but if you could—er—manage to bring down a Zeppelin within the year it would be—er—a great convenience to me."
Lawless, in spite of the serious responsibility which had been thrust upon him, laughed.
"I hope this'll be a warning to you against an over-indulgence in family pride," he said.