"I'd rather you beat me than do what I always would be miserable over.

Let's drop it, grandpa."

He pa.s.sed into the cabin and observed a small pile of clothing on the floor.

"There's your duds, boy," said Bras Granger grimly. "Pick 'em up and pull your freight outn here."

Ralph surveyed the old man curiously; but as he noted the latter's stern, unyielding aspect he said no more until he had rolled up a clean shirt and a pair of socks. A tear or two fell as he tied the bundle in a large handkerchief.

"Am I to take the gun?" asked he, gulping down his emotion as best he could.

"No!" almost shouted the old man. "What business you got with a gun?

Come now; are you ready?"

Ralph nodded; his heart was too full to speak.

The old man stood aside and pointed to the door. Ralph held out his hand.

"Good by," he managed to falter forth. "May G.o.d forgive you for turnin' me out this day."

He pa.s.sed through the yard, feeling for the gate, for his eyes were dim with moisture. Crossing the foot log, he walked on until he came to a rise of ground just where the road made a sudden turn.

Then he wheeled, dashed the tears away, and took a last look at the place where he was born and had always lived.

Shut in by wild and rugged mountains, far from the world's great life, humble and homely, it was still the only place on earth where the orphaned lad had felt that he had any natural right to be. And now, even this slender thread had been rudely severed by his nearest living relative.

"Good-by, old home," said he audibly, as he waved his hand in a farewell gesture. "I hate to leave you when it comes to the pinch, but if I live I'll make my way somewhere's else. There's other places beside these mountains where a boy can get on, I know."

He resumed his way, forcing back the tears, and soon found his emotions subside.

A conviction that he had acted right throughout the altercation with old Bras, helped him to bear more cheerfully the hard fact that he was not only homeless but almost moneyless. This last misfortune did not press on him heavily, as in that secluded region people were universally hospitable. Ralph had never paid for a meal or a night's lodging in his life.

As he happened to take an easterly course he kept it merely because it would lead him to the lowlands and the towns as quickly as any other route.

He had at once resolved to leave his native mountains. Inexperienced as he was, he instinctively felt that there were better things in store for an energetic lad in other parts of the country than he would be apt to find anywhere near his home.

He struck a lively pace and had walked nearly a mile, with his bundle under his arm, when he met Jase Vaughn returning from the mill.

"h.e.l.lo, youngster!" quoth that worthy man as cordially as if Ralph and himself had been warm friends all along. "Where you carryin' yourself to? Old man got in good humor yet?"

"He has turned me out, lock, stock, and barrel," replied the boy, swallowing his pride in this humiliating confession.

"W-h-a-a-t?" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Jase thoroughly amazed, while Clell smiled at Ralph in a most amiable manner.

"Grandpa was so provoked because I declined to obey him," said Ralph, "that he told me to pack up and get out."

"For good and all?"

"Yes, for good. At least I sh'an't go back any more--unless--he was to send for me."

"Bully for you! I wouldn't either. Give you the shake 'cause you wouldn't let him put a bullet hole through me! Well, I swow!"

Jase stared at Ralph in mingled admiration and compa.s.sion.

"The dadburned old fool!" he continued. "'Scuse me, Ralph, no reflections on your fambly, but hit kind o' teches my feelin's to see you fired in this shape, long o' your actin' the gentleman with me.

Where be you goin'?"

"Somewhere's down below; I don't know exactly where."

"Got any money?"

"A little. I'm going to hunt work; then I'll soon make more. I sha'n't stay in the mountains."

Jase drew forth a greasy leather wallet and extracted a five dollar bill, which he eyed reflectively as if forcing himself to make up his mind, then suddenly handed it to Ralph, who thanked him but shook his head.

"Dang it! Let me loan it to you then. Didn't you as good as save my life? Look, Clell wants you to take it, don't you, Clell?"

The little fellow laughed, seized the bill from his father's hand, and tossed it towards Ralph, saying:

"Take it; take it. I like 'oo, Walph."

Ralph felt another rising in his throat as he stooped to pick up the note; but he could not bring himself to the point of accepting so great a favor from one of the Vaughns.

"I--I really don't need it," said he. "Hold on! Jase! Do hold up a minute."

"Can't, old feller," called back Jase, who had suddenly spurred his mule into a trot when he saw the note in Ralph's hand. "Pay me when you get back, if you'd rather."

"But I say! I can't keep this money----"

"Good by," came floating back on the breeze. "I don't know nothin'

'bout no money. Take good care of yourself."

Then Jase, boy, and mule, whipped round a crook of the road and were seen no more.

Ralph's first impulse was to throw the bill away. But sober second thoughts prevailed, and somewhat reluctantly he placed it with the rest of his slender stock of cash.

"Jase means well," thought he, resuming his tramp. "I don't know that either of us are to blame 'cause our families have been at outs for so long. When I get to making something I'll send it back."

All that day Ralph trudged manfully on. At times grief would be uppermost in his heart when he thought of the way in which his grandfather had treated him.

Once, as he pa.s.sed a cabin where a boy of about his own age stood washing his hands on the porch, and he caught a glimpse of a cheerful interior, with dinner smoking on the table, he felt very homesick. He wished he was back, preparing his grandpa's noonday meal.

As he did not feel hungry he did not stop anywhere until about sunset, when he walked up to a double penned house that looked roomy and hospitable. Several dogs ran out barking.

"Here, you Boss! Git out'n thar, Louder! Pick up a stick and frail the nation outn 'em, boy."

A tall, shock headed, awkward man had come onto the porch and was making these remarks with great vigor but entire good nature. The dogs subsided, and Ralph ran lightly up the steps.

"Come in. Take a chair by the fire. What mought your name be these hard times?"