A CRISIS WITH BUD.
Ralph sat still at his desk. The school had gone. All at once he became
conscious that Shocky sat yet in his accustomed place upon the hard,
backless bench.
"Why, Shocky, haven't you gone yet?"
"No--sir--I was waitin' to see if you warn't a-goin', too--I--"
"Well?"
"I thought it would make me feel as if God warn't quite so fur away to
talk to you. It did the other day."
The master rose and put his hand on Shocky's head. Was it the
brotherhood in affliction that made Shocky's words choke him so? Or, was
it the weird thoughts that he expressed? Or, was it the recollection
that Shocky was Hannah's brother? Hannah so far, far away from him now!
At any rate, Shocky, looking up for the smile on which he fed, saw the
relaxing of the master's face, that had been as hard as stone, and felt
just one hot tear on his hand.
"P'r'aps God's forgot you, too," said Shocky in a sort of half
soliloquy. "Better get away from Flat Creek. You see God forgets
everybody down here. 'Cause 'most everybody forgets God, 'cept Mr.
Bosaw, and I 'low God don't no ways keer to be remembered by sich as
him. Leastways I wouldn't if I was God, you know. I wonder what becomes
of folks when God forgets 'em?" And Shocky, seeing that the master had
resumed his seat and was looking absently into the fire, moved slowly
out the door.
"Shocky!" called the master.
The little poet came back and stood before him.
"Shocky, you mustn't think God has forgotten you. God brings things out
right at last." But Ralph's own faith was weak, and his words sounded
hollow and hypocritical to himself. Would God indeed bring things out
right?
He sat musing a good while, trying to convince himself of the truth of
what he had just been saying to Shocky--that God would indeed bring
things out right at last. Would it all come out right if Bud married
Hannah? Would it all come out right if he were driven from Flat Creek
with a dark suspicion upon his character? Did God concern himself with
these things? Was there any God? It was the same old struggle between
Doubt and Faith. And when Ralph looked up, Shocky had departed.
In the next hour Ralph fought the old battle of Armageddon. I shall not
describe it. You will fight it in your own way. No two alike. The
important thing is the End. If you come out as he did, with the doubt
gone and the trust in God victorious, it matters little just what shape
the battle may take. Since Jacob became Israel there have never been two
such struggles alike, save in that they all end either in victory or in
defeat.
It was after twelve o'clock on that Christmas day when Ralph put his
head out the door of the school-house and called out: "Bud, I'd like to
see you."
Bud did not care to see the master, for he had inly resolved to "thrash
him" and have done with him. But he couldn't back out, certainly not in
sight of the others who were passing along the road with him.
"I don't want the rest of you," said Ralph in a decided way, as he saw
that Hank and one or two others were resolved to come also.
"Thought maybe you'd want somebody to see far play," said Hank as he
went off sheepishly.
"If I did, you would be the last one I should ask," said Ralph. "There's
no unfair play in Bud, and there is in you." And he shut the door.
"Now, looky here, Mr. Ralph Hartsook," said Bud. "You don't come no gum
games over me with your saft sodder and all that. I've made up my mind.
You've got to promise to leave these 'ere digging, or I've got to thrash
you."
"You'll have to thrash me, then," said Ralph, turning a little pale, but
remembering the bulldog. "But you'll tell me what It's all about, won't
you?"
"You know well enough. Folks says you know more 'bout the robbery at the
Dutchman's than you orter. But I don't believe them. Fer them as says it
is liars and thieves theirselves. 'Ta'n't fer none of that. And I shan't
tell you what it _is_ fer. So now, if you won't travel, why, take off
your coat and git ready fer a thrashing."
The master took off his coat and showed his slender arms. Bud laid his
off, and showed the physique of a prize-fighter.
"You a'n't a-goin to fight _me_?" said Bud.
"Not unless you make me."
"Why I could chaw you all up."
"I know that."
"Well, you're the grittiest feller I ever did see, and ef you'd jest kep
off of my ground I wouldn't a touched you. But I a'n't a-goin' to be cut
out by no feller a livin' 'thout thrashin' him in an inch of his life.
You see I wanted to git out of this Flat Crick way. We're a low-lived
set here in Flat Crick. And I says to myself, I'll try to be somethin'
more nor Pete Jones, and dad, and these other triflin', good-fer-nothin'
ones 'bout here. And when you come I says, There's one as'll help me.
And what do you do with yor book-larnin' and town manners but start
right out to git away the gal that I'd picked out, when I'd picked her
out kase I thought, not bein' Flat Crick born herself, she might help a
feller to do better! Now I won't let nobody cut me out without givin'
'em the best thrashin' it's in these 'ere arms to give."
"But I haven't tried to cut you out."
"You can't fool _me_."
"Bud, listen to me, and then thrash me if you will. I went with that
girl once. When I found you had some claims, I gave her up. Not because
I was afraid of you, for I would rather have taken the worst thrashing
you can give me than give her up. But I haven't spoken to her since the
night of the first spelling-school."
"You lie!" said Bud, doubling his fists.
Ralph grew red.
"You was a-waitin' on her last Sunday right afore my eyes, and a-tryin'
to ketch my attention too. So when you're ready say so."
"Bud, there is some misunderstanding." Hartsook spoke slowly and felt
bewildered. "I tell you that I did not speak to Hannah last Sunday, and
you know I didn't."
"Hanner!" Bud's eyes grew large. "Hanner!" Here he gasped for breath,
and looked around, "Hanner!" He couldn't get any further than the name
at first. "Why, plague take it, who said Hanner?"
"Mirandy said you were courting Hannah," said Ralph, feeling round in a
vague way to get his ideas together.
"Mirandy! Thunder! You believed Mirandy! Well! Now, looky here, Mr.
Hartsook, ef you was to say that my sister lied, I'd lick you till yer
hide wouldn't hold shucks. But _I_ say, a-twix you and me and the
gate-post, don't you never believe nothing that Mirandy Means says. Her
and marm has set theirselves like fools to git you. Hanner! Well, she's
a mighty nice gal, but you're welcome to _her_. I never tuck no shine
that air way. But I was out of school last Thursday and Friday
a-shucking corn to take to mill a-Saturday. And when I come past the
Squire's and seed you talking to a gal as is a gal, you know"--here Bud
hesitated and looked foolish--"I felt hoppin' mad."
Bud put on his coat.
Ralph put on his coat.
Then they shook hands and Bud went out. Ralph sat looking into the fire.
There was no conscientious difficulty now in the way of his claiming
Hannah. The dry forestick lying on the rude stone andirons burst into a
blaze. The smoldering hope In the heart of Ralph Hartsook did the same.
He could have Hannah If he could win her. But there came slowly back the
recollection of his lost standing in Flat Creek. There was
circumstantial evidence against him. It was evident that Hannah believed
something of this. What other stones Small might have put in circulation
he did not know. Would Small try to win Hannah's love to throw it away
again, as he had done with others? At least he would not spare any pains
to turn the heart of the bound girl against Ralph.
The bright flame on the forestick, which Ralph had been watching,
flickered and burned low.