Everything was in doubt except one point. He felt that he had broken, finally, the tie that bound him to Mr. Holden. He would not return to him. He had experienced enough of Abner"s ugly and unreasonable temper to feel that there could be no harmony between them, and as to submitting to personal violence from such a man as that, his blood boiled at the thought. He knew that he should resist with all the strength he possessed, and what the result might be he did not dare to think. What lay before him in the future he could not conjecture, but whatever it might be, he felt that it was better than to remain an inmate of Abner Holden"s household, and in his power.
But where should he go? That was a question not easily answered. After his experience of his uncle"s indifference to him, he did not wish to appeal to him for aid, yet he felt that he should like to go to New York and try his fortune there. Thousands of people lived there, and earned enough to support them comfortably. Why not he? It was a thousand miles off, and he might be some time in getting there. He might have to stop and work on the way. But, sooner or later, he resolved that he would find his way to the great metropolis.
But there was one difficulty which presented itself at the outset. This difficulty related to his clothing. He had on a pair of overalls and a ragged vest which Abner had provided for him, intending that he should save the good suit he brought with him for Sundays. His present suit, which had been worn by half a dozen of his predecessors, Herbert decidedly objected to wearing, as, in addition to being faded and worn, it was by no means a good fit. He must get his other suit.
But this was in Mr. Holden"s attic, and it would hardly be prudent to venture back for it, as Abner was on the lookout for him, and there would be a collision, and perhaps he might be forcibly detained.
Fortunately, his money he had about him. This amounted, as the reader already knows, to nearly fifteen dollars, and would, no doubt, be of essential service to him in the project which he had undertaken. As to the clothes, he must think of a way of securing them, before setting out on his journey to New York.
CHAPTER XII
RALPH THE RANGER
One thing was certain. There was no chance of obtaining the clothes at present. Probably his best course would be to wait till night, and then come back to the house on the chance of gaining Mrs. Bickford"s attention. In the meantime, probably, the best thing to be done was to conceal himself temporarily in a belt of woods lying about a mile back of Abner Holden"s house.
As soon as his breath was recovered, Herbert got up, and headed for these woods. A few minutes found him in the midst of them. He made his way with some difficulty through the underbrush, parting the thick stems with his hands, until he reached a comparatively open s.p.a.ce of perhaps an acre in extent. In the midst of this s.p.a.ce a rude hut was visible, constructed of logs, and covered with the branches of trees. In front of it, sitting on the stump of a tree, which perhaps had been spared for that purpose, sat a tall man, with very brown complexion, clad in a rough hunting suit. His form, though spare, was tough and sinewy, and the muscles of his bare arms seemed like whipcords. A short, black pipe was in his mouth. The only covering of his head was the rough, grizzled hair, which looked as if for months it had never felt the touch of a comb or brush.
Herbert, though he had never before seen this singular being, recognized him at once as Ralph the Ranger, as he was properly called in the village. For years he had lived a hermit-like existence in the forest, supporting himself mainly by his rifle. This was not difficult, for his wants were few and simple. What cause led him to shun the habitations of his kind, and make his dwelling in the woods, no one knew, and perhaps no one ever would know, for of himself he was silent, and it was not easy to draw him out.
He looked up as he heard Herbert"s step, and said, abruptly: "Well, boy, what do you want?"
His manner was rough, but our hero was not afraid. He answered frankly, "I am hiding."
"Hiding? Who from?"
"From Abner Holden."
"Humph! Why should you hide from him? What has he to do with you?"
"I am bound to him, and he is angry with me because he thinks I interfered in a trade of his. He wanted to beat me, so I ran away."
"Good!" said Ralph, approvingly. "Tell me about it."
Herbert drew near, and told his story.
Ralph listened attentively.
"Boy," said he, "I think you are honest. There are not many that can be said of. As for Abner Holden, I know him. He"s a mean skinflint. Pah!"
and he spit, contemptuously. "You"d better not go back to him."
"I don"t mean to," said Herbert, promptly.
"What are your plans? Have you formed any?"
"I want to go to New York."
"To New York," repeated Ralph, thoughtfully. "You wish to get into the crowd, while I seek to avoid it. But it is natural to youth. At your age, it was so with me. I hope, my boy, the time will not come when you, like me, will wish to shun the sight of men."
Herbert listened in sympathy, not unmingled with surprise, to the speech of this man, which was quite superior to what might have been expected from one of his appearance.
"When do you wish to start?" asked Ralph, after a pause.
"First, I want to get my clothes."
"Where are they?"
"In my room, at Mr. Holden"s house."
"How do you expect to get them?"
"Mrs. Bickford, the housekeeper, is a friend of mine. I thought I might go there to-night, and attract her attention without rousing Mr. Holden.
She would get them for me."
"Good! I will go with you."
"Will you?" asked Herbert, gladly.
He had felt a little doubt as to the result of his expedition, as, if Mr. Holden should be awake and start in pursuit, he would stand a good chance of being captured, which, above all things, he most dreaded. But with so able an auxiliary as Ralph, he knew he could bid easy defiance to Abner, however much the latter might desire to molest him.
"Yes, I will stand by you, and you shall share my cabin with me as long as you like. You are not afraid of me?"
"No," said Herbert, quickly.
Ralph looked kindly at him.
"Some of the children run from me," he said. "It is not strange, perhaps, for I look savage, I suppose, but you do well to trust me. I will be your friend, and that is something I have not said to any living being for years. I like your face. It is brave and true."
"Thank you for your favorable opinion, Mr.--" Here Herbert paused in uncertainty, for he had never heard Ralph"s surname.
"Call me Ralph. I have done with the t.i.tle of civilization. Call me Ralph. That will suit me best."
"Thank you for your kindness, then, Ralph."
"What is your name?"
"Herbert--Herbert Mason."
"Then, Herbert, I think you must be hungry. Have you eaten your dinner?"
"No," said Herbert.
"Then you shall share mine. My food is of the plainest, but such as it is, you are welcome. Come in."
Herbert entered the cabin. The only table was a plank supported at each end by a barrel. From a box in the corner Ralph drew out some corn-bread and some cold meat. He took a tin measure, and, going out of the cabin, filled it with water from a brook near by. This he placed on the rude table.