Ralph Grangers Fortunes | Page 3

'oo," cried the little fellow, whereat Jase gave a great horse laugh
of undisguised satisfaction.
"These young uns has got more sense than all of us older fools,"

exclaimed the gratified father. "Ain't that so, old man?" he added,
looking at the elder Granger.
But the face of Ralph's grandfather became convulsed with a sudden
fury. He rushed upon Ralph with a celerity unlocked for in one so old,
and wrenched the rifle from the boy's hands.
Then he turned upon Jase Vaughn who had witnessed this action in
astonishment.
"Now," shouted old Granger, "reckon I'll get even for the loss of my
son. Here's at ye!"
"Grandpa!" cried Ralph, springing between the old man and his
intended victim. "You shall not shoot, I say!"
"Out of my way, you renegade," retorted the other leveling his gun.
As the cap snapped, Ralph struck up the barrel, and was rewarded by a
furious imprecation from the aged but relentless relative.
CHAPTER II
Ralph and His Grandfather.
Meanwhile Jase Vaughn sat on his mule looking quietly on, as if he
were entirely unconcerned in the result of the struggle between Ralph
and his grandfather.
Old Granger, finding himself baffled, flung down the rifle upon the
ground and strode off up the road, muttering wildly to himself like one
demented.
"Hold on, grandpa!" shouted Ralph, picking up the gun. "I'll be with
you in a minute."
But the old man heeded not, and soon disappeared round a bend of the
road in the direction of his home.

"He's too old to change," said Jase. "But I really don't see any reason
why you and me should keep up this foolishness. If my father shot
yourn, thar was a cousin of your father's fought a duel with my dad
'way down in Georgy. Both on 'em were hurt so bad they never walked
again."
"We heard of it," returned Ralph, "and I couldn't help thinking at the
time what fools our families were to keep up a feud started, I reckon,
by our great grandfathers."
"Right, you are, young feller. Hit all come of doggin' hogs outn a sweet
tater patch; so I've heard."
"Then there was a row, I reckon."
"Yes. One word brought on another, till at last some one got hurt, then
the shootin' begun. I never did take much to the business myself, but
somehow I didn't have the energy to set the thing straight. I'm powerful
glad ye done what ye have done today, and I passes you my word that
Jase Vaughn has done with the feud as well as you."
This time it was Ralph's turn to offer his hand. After another hearty
shake little Clell threw himself upon the lad's neck with childish
abandon.
"I like 'oo!" he cried again.
"Well, I swow!" exclaimed Jase. "He's takin' a plum likin' to you. But
we must be gettin' on. If ever I can do anything for you, don't 'low my
bein' a Vaughn keep you from lettin' me know."
Then Jase clucked to his mule and rode away, with little Clell craning
his neck to catch a last glimpse of Ralph, who, shouldering his rifle,
began to retrace his steps towards home.
As he proceeded his face grew grave. How would his incensed relative
receive him?

Since the grandmother's and his father's death Ralph and the old man
had lived principally by themselves. The boy's own mother had died
when he was a baby. Now and then some woman would be hired to do
some house-work, usually the wife or daughter of some tenant to whom
Bras Granger rented a portion of his land. But they seldom remained
long, and Ralph had, perforce, to take their place from time to time.
He grew as expert at cooking and other simple household duties as he
was at shooting, trapping, and similar mountain accomplishments. Thus
the two had lived on together, with little outside society, relying mainly
on themselves for diversion as well as support.
The maintenance of the feud was the old man's greatest wish. It was as
meat and drink to his soul.
When Ralph showed the indifference he often felt on that subject, his
grandfather always flew into a rage.
"To think that my only living descendant should go back on the family,
is too much to bear," he said. "There's only nephews and cousins 'sides
you, Ralph. They are scattered here and yonder; they ain't a carin' much
about the family honor. Hit all depends on you, boy. I wonder your
pap's ghost ain't a haantin' you for bein' so careless."
Then Ralph would vaguely promise to do better, and the subject would
be dropped, only to crop up again whenever the old man felt more
savagely inclined than usual. Today, however, was the first time that
the