“Don't do that,” said Rick. “Whatever comes, that's what comes.” It was the nearest a modern man could approach to having a philosophy.
“Well, look out for the Fokkers — get them first!”
“Right-o!” The whistle blew, and Rick bolted, just in time for the train and for the honor of the Royal Flying Corps. Lanny stood, with tears flowing freely. “Good-by, Rick! Good-by!” His voice died into a sort of sob as the train moved on, and the face of Eric Vivian Pomeroy-Nielson disappeared, perhaps forever. That was the dreadful thing about wartime, you couldn't part from anybody without the thought: “I'll probably not see him again!”
VIII
The youth kept talking about this depressing idea until it worried his father. “You know, kid,” he remarked, “you just can't be too soft in this world. It's painful to think of people getting killed, and I don't know the answer, except that maybe we put too much value on human life; we try to make more out of it than nature allows. This is certain, if you're too sensitive, and suffer too much, you wreck your own happiness, and maybe your health, and then what are you worth to yourself or anybody else?”
That was something to think about, and the youngster put his mind on it. What was the use of practicing the arts, of understanding and loving them, if you didn't dare let yourself feel? Manifestly, the purpose of art was to awaken feelings; but Robbie said you had to put them to sleep, or at any rate retire into a cave with them. Build yourself like a tortoise, with a hard shell around you, so that the world couldn't get hold of you to make you suffer!
Lanny voiced that, and the reply was: “Maybe it's a bad time for art right now. As I read history I see these periods come pretty frequently and last a long time, so you have to arm yourself somehow; unless, of course, you want to be a martyr, and die on a cross, or something like that. It makes good melodrama, or maybe great tragedy, but it's doggone uncomfortable while it's happening.”
They were in their room, packing to leave for England; and Robbie said: “Sit down and let me tell you something I heard today.” He lowered his voice, as if he thought that someone might be hiding in their room. Enemy ears are listening!
“Your friend is going off to fight the German Fokkers, and you're unhappy because they may get him. He's told you the Fokkers are fast and light, and that helps them, and may doom him. Do you know why they are so fast and light?”
“He says they're putting aluminum into them.”