"That's all right, Tiger," he said. "There will always be a job for you here if it's only to annoy my relations." He paused and lighted himself another cigarette. "Give us a bit of your best to-night," he added. "I should like to make Da Freitas look silly, and if you win easily, Donaldson has practically promised me a match for the Lonsdale Belt." Bugg's eyes gleamed, and his hands automatically clenched themselves. "I'll slip one over the fust chance I get, sir," he observed earnestly. "I don't think I'll 'ave to wait long either." Tony nodded, and gathering up his dressing-gown, turned towards the door. "Well, be ready by eight o'clock," he said, "and we'll go down together in the car." Leaving the gymnasium he strolled on up the path till it curved round the corner and opened out into an asphalt yard, where a man in blue overalls was attending to the toilet of the big Peugot. He was a tall, red-haired individual with an expression of incurable melancholy on his face. "Good-morning, Jennings," said Tony. "It's a nice morning, isn't it?" The chauffeur cast a resentful glance at the unclouded blue overhead. "It's all right at present, sir," he admitted grudgingly, "but these here extra fine mornings have a way of turning off sudden." Tony sauntered up to the car, and lifting the bonnet looked down into the gleaming network of copper and brass which bore eloquent testimony to the care and energy expended on it. "I didn't think she was pulling quite at her best yesterday," he said. "You might have a run through and tune her up a bit, when you've got time." The chauffeur nodded. "Once these here big racin' engines begin to give trouble, sir," he remarked with a sort of gloomy relish, "they ain't never the same again--not in a manner o' speaking. Least, that's how it seems to me." "That's how it would seem to you, Jennings," said Tony kindly. "Is the Suiza all right?" "She'll run, sir." "Well, have her ready about one o'clock, and I shall want you and the Rolls-Royce at eight to-night, to take us down to the Club." He paused. "I suppose you have backed Bugg?" he added. Jennings shook his head. "Not me, sir. I think he's flying too high, sir. From all they tell me this here Lopez is a terror. I'll be sorry to see Bugg knocked out, but there it is; it comes to all of 'em in time." "I like talking to you after breakfast, Jennings," said Tony. "You cheer one up for the entire day." Jennings received the compliment with an utterly unmoved expression. "I don't take much stock in bein' cheerful meself, sir," he observed, "not unless there's something to be cheerful about." He stepped forward and resumed his work on the car, and after watching him for a moment or two with a pleasant languid interest Tony turned round and sauntered back to the house.