CHAPTER I.

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RALPH GRANGER'S FORTUNES

by

WILLIAM PERRY BROWN

Illustrated By W. H. Fry

[Frontispiece: "Grandpa!" cried Ralph. "You shall not shoot, I say!"]

Akron, Ohio

The Saalfield Publishing Co.

New York ---- 1902 ---- Chicago

Copyright, 1902,

by

The Saalfield Publishing Company

TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I. Ending the Feud

II. Ralph and his Grandfather

III. Ralph Continues his Journey

IV. The Moonshiners and the Railroad

V. Ralph's First Railroad Ride

VI. Ralph in Columbia

VII. An Enraged Photographer

VIII. Captain Shard's Proposal

IX. Ralph Arrives at Savannah

X. The Captain Talks with Ralph

XI. Aboard the Curlew

XII. The Curlew Puts to Sea

XIII. A Taste of Ship's Discipline

XIV. Bad Weather

XV. Boarded by a Cruiser

XVI. Nearing the Gold Coast

XVII. Up the River

XVIII. A Brush in the Wilderness

XIX. Left Behind

XX. Ralph Stumbles on a Discovery

XXI. At Close Quarters

XXII. Trouble of Another Kind

XXIII. Adrift

XXIV. Ralph's Sufferings

XXV. The Second Mate's Story

XXVI. Hard Times

XXVII. Uncle Gideon

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

"Grandpa!" cried Ralph. "You shall not shoot, I say!" . . . . . . . . .

_Frontispiece_

"Mr. Duff," said Gary in his most grating tones, "who gave you the

authority to interfere with my designs regarding this insolent

youngster?"

Ralph's Winchester cracked and the raised arm fell shattered and

useless.

"Quick, Ralph, pull me through by the arms."

Ralph Granger's Fortunes.

CHAPTER I.

Ending the Feud.

"Must I do it, grandpa?"

"Of course you must! I'm afraid you ain't a true Granger, Ralph, or

you wouldn't ask no such question."

"But why should I do it, grandpa?"

"Listen at the boy."

The sharp-eyed, grizzled old man rose from his seat before the fire,

and took down an ancient looking, muzzle loading rifle from over the

cabin door.

"I'll tell you why."

He patted the gun, now lying across his knees.

"This here was your father's gun. He carried it for many years. I had

it when the feud betwixt the Grangers and the Vaughns first began. He

had it with him when he was shot down at the Laurel Branch by John

Vaughn, just six years ago today."

"Today is my birthday," commented Ralph, a sturdy-limbed, ruddy-faced

lad.

"And you are fifteen. Think of that; 'most a man. I said I'd wait

till you was fifteen, and as it happens, his son's a goin' to mill

today."

"What of that?"

"You just wait and you'll see. All you've got to do is to obey orders."

The old man got up, took down a leather shot pouch, and proceeded to

load the rifle carefully. After which he slung the pouch and a powder

horn round Ralph's neck, then went out and looked at the sun.

He returned, placed the rifle in the lad's hands, and bade him follow.

Taking their hats they went out of the house.

Steep mountain ridges cut off any extended view. An old field or two

lay about them, partially in the narrow creek bottom and partially

climbing the last rugged slopes.

There was a foot log across the little brawling brook, beyond which the

public road wound deviously down the glen towards the far distant

lowlands.

Ralph eyed the unusually stern expression of his grandfather's face

dubiously as they trudged along the road.

Bras Granger was all of sixty-five years old, dried and toughened by

toil, exposure, and vindictive broodings, until he resembled a

cross-grained bit of time-hardened oak. His gait, though shambling,

was rapid for one of his age.

"You said you'd tell me why," suggested Ralph, as they wound their way

along the crooked road.

"Didn't I say that the son of the man as killed your father was comin'

by the Laurel Branch this mornin'? Haven't the Vaughns and the

Grangers been at outs for more than twenty year? What more d'ye want?"

The boy frowned, but it was in perplexity rather than wrath.

They came at last to a wooded hollow, through which another creek ran,

thickly shaded by thick overhanging shrubbery. The old man led the way

to a half decayed log of immense size, that lay behind a thick fringe

of bushes, at an angle just beyond where the road crossed the creek.

It was a deadly spot for an ambuscade.

"Lay down behind that log," said old Granger. "Now, can you draw a

good bead on him when he comes in sight?"

Young Granger squinted along the rifle barrel, now resting across the

log. Though apparently concealed himself, he had a fair view of the

road for sixty yards in both directions. Where it entered the brook it

was barely thirty feet away.

"Take him right forninst the left shoulder, 'bout the time his mule

crosses the creek; then your poor father'll rest easy in his grave."

"Why ain't you killed him afore?" demanded Ralph.

"My hand hasn't been steady these nine year; not since them Vaughns

burned our house down the night your grandmother died. It was cold and

snowin', and bein' out in it was more'n she could stand."

"I remember," said the boy gloomily. "But that was a long time ago. I

can't stay mad nine year."

"I'm madder now than I was then!" almost shouted the infuriated

mountaineer. "After they got your pap, I 'lowed I'd wait 'twel you was

fifteen. Then you'd be big enough to know how sweet revenge is. Heap

sweeter than sugar, ain't it?"

"Hark?" interjected Ralph, without replying. "Some one is comin' up

the road."

A trample of hoofs became audible, and presently a man mounted on a

mule, with a sack of corn under him, was to be seen approaching the

ambuscade.

Seated before him was a child of perhaps four or five, who laughed and

prattled to the man's evident delight. Old Granger's eyes shown with a

ferocious joy.

"That's him!" he exclaimed in tremulously eager tones. "He's got his

brat along. I wish ye could get 'em both, then there'd be an end of

the miserable brood for one while. Wait, boy--wait 'twel he gets to

the creek afore ye shoot. Think of your poor pap, when ye draw bead."

But Ralph's face did not betoken any kindred enthusiasm. He was tired

to death of hearing about the everlasting feud between the families.

If the Vaughns had fought the Grangers, it was equally certain that the

Grangers had been no whit behind in sanguinary reprisals. He

remembered seeing this same Jase Vaughn, now riding unsuspectingly

toward the loaded rifle, at a corn shucking once. Ralph then thought

him a very jolly, amusing fellow.

"Now lad--now lad!" whispered the old man. "Get down and take your

sight. I've seen ye shoot the heads offn squirrels. Just imagine that

feller's head is a squirrel's. As for the child----"

"Grandpa, I will not shoot. It would be murder. I'll meet him fair

and square, though, and if he's sorry for what his father done, I'll

let it pass. He couldn't help it anyhow, if he wanted to, I reckon."

To the old man's intense disgust, Ralph leaped lightly over the log and

advanced into the road, rifle in hand. His grandfather followed him,

raving in his futile rage.

"Hello!" exclaimed Jase Vaughn, thrusting his hand behind him quickly.

"Here's old Granger and his son's kid. I wish you was at home, Clelly."

This last to his boy who, not at all alarmed, was smiling at Ralph in a

very friendly manner.

When the lad saw Jase throw back his hand, he dropped his rifle into

the hollow of his left arm and brought the trigger to a half cock,

advancing at the same time squarely into the middle of the road.

"Grandpa tells me that you are the son of the man who shot my father,

here, just six years ago," began the boy. "I knew it myself, but I

didn't 'low you was to blame, 'less you uphilt him in it."

"Suppose I do; what then?" Jase eyed the two Grangers steadily, though

not in anger as far as Ralph could see.

"Then we'll settle it right here," said the latter firmly. "I could

have shot you from the bushes, as your father did mine, but I wouldn't."

"The more fool you!" hissed the vindictive old man. "I ought to have

kept the gun myself."

"Suppose I don't uphold the deed?" added Vaughn, still totally

undisturbed.

"Then you can go, for all of me. I'm sick of the feud."

"Shake my boy!" Jase held out a large brown paw. "So am I. If I

could 'a' had my way your pap never would a been killed."

Ralph hesitated an instant, when suddenly little Clelly reached forth

his small, chubby fingers, and the boy surrendered. He suffered Vaughn

to shake his hand, then frankly took the child's and pressed it warmly.

"I like '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.

Ralph Granger's Fortunes · 第 1 / 27 章