He buried his face in Fluff’s silken hair for an instant, and then, looking up, said with a brave effort to prevent his lip from quivering, although he could not choke back the tremor in his voice:
“I am ready to go now, sir.”
“According to the looks of things you ain’t mightily pleased at the prospect of leaving,”—and Thomas Downey glanced meaningly at his comrades.
“You’ve all been very good to me, sir, and if you’d ever known how lonesome it is to be alone, same’s Fluff and I are now, you couldn’t wonder that we was a little mite sorry to go away from such a nice place; but I’ll——”
Again Benny buried his face in Fluff’s coat that he might have time to choke back the rebellious sobs, and Sam Hardy whispered in a voice that was not remarkable for its steadiness:
“It’s too bad to keep the little duffer in suspense, Tom.”
“He’s showing what he’s made of now.”
“And he’s got grit,” Joe Cushing added.
By this time Benny had conquered his emotions once more, and looking up said with a feeble attempt at a smile:
“You’ve all been awful good to Fluff and me, and we sha’n’t forget it. Unless we’re going too far away, both of us would like to come back once in a while to see you.”