“You don’t make people want you as a friend,” was his quick reply. “They either wish to be your friend or they don’t, and that’s all there is to it.”
“Are—are you sure?” she asked a little startled.
“Absolutely.”
“Well, then, they might not care to have you as a friend but you might be able to do something that would make them wish to do something for you—you know, like—”
“Yes, I know what you mean. The answer to that is simple then. Take an interest in them first. Find out about their lives, their families, their problems. Have a sympathetic interest in them. If they’re human, they’ll do the same for you. That’s simple, isn’t it?”
“Very simple.”
Suddenly, he spoke in a different tone: “Come on in, Johnny.”
After sweeping the sky with his binoculars, he settled down in his chair.
“That radio boy on that big bomber is Johnny, one of my own boys. I taught him. He’s a fine boy. I suppose the war will get him sooner or later. It seems rather useless to care for them too much. They go away and—”
“You never see them again.”