“‘Well, good-bye fellers, I got to go now.’ Don’t you hope so, Johnny?”
“I hope so, Ben,” Johnny’s voice had grown husky.
“An’, Johnny, when my mother called me it wasn’t ever because she felt contrary and wanted to spoil my fun; it was always because she had something useful she wanted me to do for the bunch. I’m sort of hopin’, Johnny, when that last call comes it’ll be for the same reason, because the one that’s a lot bigger an’ wiser than me had got somethin’ useful he wants me to do for the bunch of us. Do you think it’ll be that way, Johnny?”
“I—I’m sure it will, Ben. But Ben, you’re not very old. That time’s a long way off.”
“I hope so, Johnny. It’s a grand privilege to live. But you can’t tell, Johnny; you can’t, can you now?”
For a long time after that they sat there in silence. Johnny was slowly beginning to realize that he liked this strange little Ben Zook with his heart of gold.
“Look, Johnny!” Ben exclaimed. “A fire!”
“What! Another?” cried Johnny.
“Down there by the water front.”
Johnny followed his gaze to the south where there was a great blaze against the sky.