"I should say myself that I'd messed things up a bit," Johnny admitted, "but tell me what it's all about. What did the poor old cuss do?"
"Do?" the boy looked puzzled. "That one do?"
"Sure. What did they want to hang him for? He was too old and feeble to do anything very terrible; besides he's blind."
"Oh," said the boy smiling again. "He done not anything. Too old, that why. No work. All time eat. Better dead. That way think all my people. All time that way."
Johnny looked at him in astonishment, then he said slowly:
"I guess I get you. In this commune, this tribe of yours, everyone does the best he can for the gang. When he is too old to work, fish or hunt, the best thing he can do is die, so you hang him. Am I right?"
"Sure a thing," replied the boy. "That's just it."
Johnny shot back:
"No enjoying a ripe old age in this commune business?"
"No. Oh, no."