"Then I'm off this commune stuff forever," exclaimed Johnny. "The old order of things like we got back in the States is good enough for me. And, I guess it's not so old after all. It's about the newest thing there is. This commune business belongs back in the stone age when primitive tribes were all the organizations there were."
He had addressed this speech to no one in particular. He now turned to the boy, a black frown on his brow.
"See here," he said sharply, "this man, no die, See? Live. See? All time live, see? No kill. You tell those guys that. Tell them I mebby come back one winter, one summer. Come back. Old man dead. I kill three of them. See?"
Johnny took out his automatic and played with it longingly.
"Tell them if they don't act as if they mean to do what I say, I'll shoot them now, three of them."
The boy interpreted this speech. Some of the men turned pale beneath their brown skins; some shifted uneasily. They all answered quickly.
"They say, all right," the boy explained solemnly. "Say that one, if had known you so very much like old man, no want-a hang that one."
"All right." Johnny smiled as he bowed himself out.
It was the first near-hanging he had ever attended and he hoped it would be the last. But as he came out into the clear afternoon air he drank in three full breaths, then said, slowly:
"Communism! Bah!"