Ralph Grangers Fortunes | Page 4

infuriate the old man.
"Pack up your traps and get outn here!" he raged, brandishing his walking stick. "My house is no longer a home for such as you."
"Wh--where shall I go?" asked Ralph, still dazed over this astounding outcome of the Vaughn incident.
"Mebbe you'd better go over to Jase Vaughn's," sneered old Granger. "His father killed yourn, but you don't care for such a little thing as that."
"Grandpa," cried Ralph, stung to indignation at last, "it is cruel of you to treat me so, simply because I wouldn't commit murder. Yes--murder. I say it would have been murder! I'm no coward; and it is cowardly to shoot down a man and him not knowing."
"You reprobate!" gasped the obdurate old mountaineer. "I've a notion to thrash you--right here."
He again shook his cane and glared his hatred of Ralph's conduct. But the boy only said:
"I'd rather you beat me than do what I always would be miserable over. Let's drop it, grandpa."
He passed 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 God forgive you for turnin' me out this day."
He passed 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.
"Hello, 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?" ejaculated 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 compassion.
"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