Big Tom cares a snap about!
And if Grandpa stays here, and Big Tom's sure t' keep him, why, o'
course, he can't stay--alone." He paused; then, "No, he can't stay
alone." Perhaps never again in all his life would he meet a temptation
so strong as this one--as hard to resist. "My! what'll I do?" he asked.
"What'll I do?"

"You must decide for yourself," said Mr. Perkins. How he felt, Johnnie
could not tell. The face of the scoutmaster was in the shadow, and
chiefly he seemed taken up with the polishing of his _pince-nez_.

"Y' know, I thank y' awful much," Johnnie declared, "for plannin' out
'bout me goin' and--and so on."

"You're as welcome as can be!"

Johnnie drew those yellow brows together. "I wonder what Mrs. Kukor
would think I ought t' do," he continued. "And--and what would Mister
Roosevelt do if he was me? And that boss of all the Boy Scouts----"

"General Sir Baden-Powell."

"Yes, him. What would he think about it, I wonder? And then Edith
Cavell, what would _she_ say?"

Mr. Perkins went on with his polishing.

"Father Pat, he said somethin' once t' me about the way y' got t' act if
y' ever want t' be happy later on, and have folks like y'. Oh, if only
the Father was alive, and knew about it! But maybe he does know! but if
he don't, anyhow God does, 'cause God knows ev'rything, whether y' want
Him to or not. My! I wouldn't like t' have God turn against me! I'd--I'd
like t' please God."

Still the scoutmaster was silent.

"You heard about my father, didn't y', Mister Perkins?" Johnnie asked
presently. "He wouldn't be saved if my mother couldn't be, and jus'
stayed on the ice with her, and held her fast in his arms
till--till----" How clearly he could see it all!--his father, his feet
braced upon the whirling cake, with that frailer body in his arms,
drifting, drifting, swift and sure, toward destruction, but going to his
death with a wave of the hand. His father had laid down his life; but
his son would have to lay down only a small part of his.

"It didn't take my father long t' make up _his_ mind about somethin'
hard," Johnnie said proudly.

"No."

"Well, then, bein' his boy, I'd like t' act as--as fine as I can."

He pressed his lips tight together. He still felt his lot a bitter one
in the flat; he still yearned to get away. But during these last few
months a change had come over him--in his hopes, his aspirations, his
thinks--a change fully as great as the change in his outward appearance