“Didn’t love her!” ejaculated Bunny.

Jake nodded.  “Or you’d have understood her better—­stood by her better.”

“I’d have loved her fast enough if she’d loved me,” protested Bunny.  “But that scoundrel always came first with her.  I never had a chance.”

“Oh yes, you had.”  Again the faint smile showed for an instant in the elder man’s eyes.  “Not much of one, perhaps, but you had a chance.  If she’d been quite sure of you, she wouldn’t have run away.”

“Wouldn’t she?  Then she can’t be very sure of Saltash either.”  Bunny spoke with a certain gloomy triumph.

Jake blew forth a cloud of smoke and watched it rise thoughtfully.  “I’m waiting for Saltash,” he said.  “I’ve got him on test.”

“You believe in him?” questioned Bunny contemptuously.

Jake’s eyes remained fixed.  “I believe,” he said slowly, “that there comes a turning-point in every man’s life—­whatever he’s been—­when he either makes good or throws in his hand altogether.  I’ve been through it myself, and I know what it means.  It’s Saltash’s turn now.”

“Oh, rot, Jake!” Bunny turned on him with the old boyish admiration shining in his eyes.  “You—­why, you’ve made good every time—­just about as often as Charlie has done the other thing.”

“No.”  Jake spoke without elation.  “I did make good, but I went through hell first, and I very nearly failed.  It may be the same with him.  If so—­well, poor devil, he has my sympathy.”

“You can’t be sorry for a hound like Saltash!” remonstrated Bunny.

Jake turned squarely and faced him.  “Well, there you’re wrong, Bunny,” he said.  “I reckon I’m sorrier for him than I am for you.  You’ve got a clean record, and you’ll win out and marry Sheila Melrose.  But Saltash—­well, he’s got a damn heavy handicap, and if he pulls off this, it’ll be one of the biggest events I’ve ever seen.  Say, what’s the matter?”

Bunny had sprung to his feet.  He stood looking at Jake with an expression half-startled and half-indignant.  “Jake—­you beast!  What made you say that?” he demanded.

“What?” said Jake, and began to smile openly.  “Well, guess it’s pretty near the mark, isn’t it?  I saw which way the wind was trying to blow some time ago.  Mean to say you didn’t?”

Bunny swung upon his heel.  “Confound you!” he said, and was silent for several seconds.

Jake smoked imperturbably on.  He knew all the workings of Bunny’s mind with the sure intuition of long intimacy.  When finally the boy spoke again without turning he almost knew what he would say.

“Think I’m—­very despicable, Jake?”

The question had a shamed and sullen ring.  Bunny’s head was bent.  He was examining a little china figure on the mantelpiece with nervous concentration.

Jake arose without fuss or preliminary, and pushed a brotherly arm round the bent shoulders.  “Guess you’ve never been that, sonny,” he said very kindly.  “But—­you take an old man’s advice and go a bit slow!  She’ll think all the better of you for it.”