Ralph Grangers Fortunes | Page 7

than apt to prompt him to do you some harm."
"They don't shoot people in the town the way we do in the mountains,
aunt. I've read that the law is too strong for that."
"There's other ways of hurtin' a poor boy 'sides takin' a gun to him. If
he chose, he might harm you in other ways. I've heard it said that folks
with plenty of money can do 'most anything in the city."
"Well, aunt, I'm much obliged to you for letting me know. If I strike
Columbia, and meet up with Captain Shard, I shall certainly remember
what you say."
"Good night, then. Don't tell Dopples what I've said. He's a thinkin' the
world of Shard. I like him, too; but then he don't know I'm a Granger, I
reckon."
After Mrs. Dopples retired, Ralph soon fell asleep. When he wakened
again daylight was at hand, and Mr. Dopples was kindling a fire.

Breakfast came early, then Ralph bade his kindly friends farewell, and
resumed his journey as the sun was peeping over the easterly summits
of the Blue Ridge.
"Don't forget to see Shard," called the shock headed man, as the boy
reached the public road. "He'll help you out."
"I may see Shard," thought Ralph; "but I'll be careful how he sees me.
I'm going to get out of the range of this feud if I have to travel clear to
the seacoast."
As he had a lunch along--given him by Mrs. Dopples--he did not stop
anywhere for dinner, but trudged resolutely on at a three mile an hour
gait.
His young limbs, hardened by constant mountain climbing, did not tire
readily, while his experience of traveling enabled him to keep the
general course he wished to go, notwithstanding the branch trails and
the many windings caused by the ruggedness of the country.
The latter portion of the afternoon was occupied in climbing a long
mountain range that overtopped most of the others in sight. The sun
was nearly setting as he reached the summit; then he uttered an
exclamation of astonishment.
Behind him was a confused jumble of peaks and ridges as far as the eye
could reach. It was the region he had left--his own native wilds.
Before him stretched an undulating panorama of plain, valley, and
gentle hills. There were patches of woodland, great plantations with
here and there variegated spots that Ralph supposed to be villages.
It was his first view of the level country beyond the Blue Ridge, and he
surveyed it with intense interest.
"They say it stretches that way clear to the seacoast," he said to himself
as he began to descend the mountain. "I don't see how they can see any
distance with no big ridges to look off from."

This idea--otherwise laughable--was perfectly natural to a lad who had
never seen anything but wild and rugged mountains in his life.
He quickened his pace, wishing to get down into the region of farms
and houses before darkness should come. A rising cloud in the
southeast also occasioned him some concern.
"Looks mighty like there might be rain in that cloud," he thought. "I've
got matches, but I'd hate to have to spend a wet night out in these
woods."
The gun went down and the black south-easterly haze came up, with
semi-tropical celerity. Ralph was still in the lonely region of forest and
crag, when a whirl of wind struck him in the face and a few drops
spattered on the leaves of the chestnuts around.
The brief southern twilight was blotted out almost at once by the
overspreading clouds, and young Granger became conscious that he
had somehow missed the trail.
"That is odd," he muttered. "It was just here a minute ago."
Something like a yellow gleam caught his eye, and he plunged along in
its course in a reckless manner, for he was nervous with anxiety.
Being in a strange region, with a storm on the point of breaking, was
not pleasant even to older nerves, when added to the natural terrors of a
night in the woods, without any other company than one's brooding
thoughts.
"Hello! What's this?" he exclaimed as he almost ran against an
obstruction that looked not unlike a steep house roof.
The odor of tar and resin pervaded the air. Ralph groped his way
around it, feeling here and there with his hands.
"It's a tar kiln, sure as preaching!" ejaculated he, at length. "There
ought to be some kind of a shack about, looks like."

He was still searching, when the wind, which had been increasing,
brought with it a sudden downpour of rain. Ralph was about to rush for
a tree to shelter himself, when a flash of lightning lighted up the kiln
and surrounding objects with a