.
In a way, he had been made over, soul as well as body, that by taking
in, by a sort of soaking process, certain ideas--of honor, duty,
self-respect, unselfishness, courage, chivalry. And whereas once his
whole thought had been to go, go, go, now he knew that those certain
ideas were much more important than going. Also, there were the Laws.
One of these came into his mind now--the first one. It came in a line of
black letters which seemed to be suspended in the air between him and
Mr. Perkins: _A scout is trustworthy_.

The moment he saw that line he understood what he would do. This new-old
tempting dream, he would give it up.

"Mister Perkins," he began again, "I can't go 'way and leave old Grandpa
here alone. I'm goin' t' stay with him till he dies, jus' like my father
stayed with my mother. Yes, I must keep with Grandpa. He's a cripple,
and he's old, and--he's a baby." His jaw set resolutely.

And then--having decided--what a marvelous feeling instantly possessed
him! What peace he felt! What happiness! What triumph! He seemed even
taller than usual! And lighter on his feet! And, oh, the strength in his
backbone! in those lead-pipe legs! (Though he did not know it, that look
which was all light was on his face, while his mouth was turned up at
both ends like the ends of the Boy Scout scroll.)

"I'm not terrible bad off here no more," he went on. "I got this suit,
and my books, and One-Eye's quart o' milk. Also, Mrs. Kukor, she'll be
back 'fore long, and you'll bring Cis home t' see me, won't y'?"

"I will."

"Things'll be all right. Evenin's, I'm goin' t' night school, like
Mister Maloney said. And all the time, while I'm learnin', and watchin'
out for Grandpa, why, I'll be growin' up--nobody can stop me doin'
_that_."

_Tap! tap! tap! tap!_--the wheel chair was backing into sight at the
door of the tiny room.

Johnnie began to whisper: "Don't speak 'bout Cis, will y'? It'd make him
cry."

Grandpa heard the whispering. He looked round over a shoulder, his pale
eyes searching the half-dark kitchen. "Johnnie, what's the matter?" he
asked, as if fearful. "What's the matter?"

Johnnie went to him, walking with something of a swagger. "Nothin's the
matter!" he declared stoutly. "What y' talkin' 'bout? Ev'rything's fine!
Jus' _fine_!"

The frightened look went out of the peering, old eyes. Grandpa broke
into his thin, cackling laugh. "Everything's fine!" he cried. He shook a
proud head. "Everything's fine