A MOMENT OF PERIL
Abner Holden did not suspect that Herbert actually intended to leave
him permanently; but when evening came, and he did not return, he became
apprehensive that such was the case. Now, for more than one reason, he
objected to our hero's leaving. First, because he was a strong, capable
boy, and his services were worth considerable, and, secondly, because
he disliked Herbert, and it was a satisfaction to tyrannize over him, as
his position enabled him to do. There are some men in whom the instinct
of petty tyranny exists to such an extent that they cannot feel happy
without someone to exercise their authority over. Such a man was Abner
Holden. He was a bully and a tyrant by nature, and decidedly objected to
losing one so completely in his power as Herbert was.
When night came and Herbert did not return, he decided to search for
him, and bring him back, if found, the very next day. He did not impart
his purpose to Mrs. Bickford, for he was at no loss to discover that the
sympathies of the kind-hearted housekeeper were not with him, but with
the boy whom he wished to abuse. When breakfast was over, therefore, he
merely said: “Mrs. Bickford, I am going out for a short time. If Herbert
should return while I am absent, you may tell him to finish hoeing those
potatoes in the garden.”
“Do you think he will come back, Mr. Holden?” asked the housekeeper.
“Yes; he will soon be tired of wandering about. He will learn to prize a
good home after he has slept out of doors one night.”
Mrs. Bickford did not reply; but she did not feel quite so much
confidence as her employer appeared to do in the excellence of the home
which Herbert had enjoyed under Abner Holden's roof.
“It's just as well he doesn't suspect Herbert's plan,” she thought, and
without further words, began to clear away the breakfast dishes.
Abner was not long in deciding that Herbert was hidden in the woods.
That, indeed, seemed the most natural place of refuge for one placed in
his circumstances. He determined, therefore, to seek there first.
We must now return to Herbert.
“If you will wait till nightfall,” said Ralph, “you will be more safe
from pursuit, and I will accompany you for a few miles.”
This seemed plausible, and our hero consented.
Ralph went off on a hunting expedition, but Herbert remained behind,
fearing that he might tear or stain his clothes, of which it was
necessary, now, to be careful. How to pass the time was the question. To
tell the truth, the hunter's cabin contained little that would help
him. There were no books visible, for Ralph seemed to have discarded
everything that would remind him of that civilization which he had
forsaken in disgust.
Herbert went outside, and watched the squirrels that occasionally made
their appearance flitting from branch to branch of the tall trees. After
a while his attention was drawn to a bird, which flew with something in
its beak nearly to the top of a tall tree not far off.
“I shouldn't wonder,” thought Herbert, interested, “if she's got a nest,
and some young ones up there. I have a great mind to climb up and see
whether she has or not.”
He measured the tree with his eye. It was very tall, exceeding in its
height most of its forest neighbors.
“I don't know as I can climb it,” he said to himself, a little
doubtfully; “but anyway, I am going to try. There's nothing like
trying.”
This was a lucky determination for Herbert, as will speedily appear.
It was twenty feet to the first branching off, and this was, of course,
the most difficult part of the ascent, since it was necessary to “shin
up,” and the body of the tree was rather too large to clasp comfortably.
However, it was not the first time that Herbert had climbed a tree, and
he was not deficient in courage as well as skill. So he pushed on
his way, and though once or twice in danger of falling, he at length
succeeded in reaching the first bough. From this point the ascent was
comparatively easy.
In a short time our hero was elated to find himself probably fifty feet
from the ground, so high it made him feel a little dizzy to look down.
He reached the nest, and found the young birds--three in number. The
parent bird hovered near by, evidently quite alarmed for the safety of
her brood. But Herbert had no intention of harming them. He only climbed
up to gratify his curiosity, and because he had nothing more important
to do. Though he did not know it, his own danger was greater than that
which threatened the birds. For, just at that moment, Mr. Holden, in
his wanderings, had reached Ralph's cabin, and Herbert, looking down,
beheld, with some anxiety, the figure of the unwelcome visitor. He saw
Abner enter the cabin, and, after a few moments' interval, issue from it
with an air of disappointment and dissatisfaction.
“How lucky,” thought our hero, “that he did not find me inside!”
Abner Holden looked about him in every direction but the right one. He
little dreamed that the object of his pursuit was looking down upon him,
securely, from above.
“I don't think he'll find me,” thought Herbert. “Wouldn't he give
something, though, to know where I am?”
But our young hero was doomed to disappointment. Just at that
moment--the unluckiest that could have been selected--he was seized with
a strong inclination to sneeze.
Alarmed lest the sound should betray him, he made desperate efforts
to suppress it but Nature would have its way, and probably did so with
greater violence than if no resistance had been made.
“Ker-chew!” sneezed Herbert, violently.
As he anticipated, Abner's attention was attracted by the loud noise,
which he rightly concluded could hardly proceed from a bird or squirrel.
He had just been on the point of leaving the cabin for some other part
of the woods, but at this sound he stood still. Looking up to discover
whence it proceeded, his keen eyes detected Herbert in his lofty perch.
His eyes sparkled with joy.
“Ha, you young rascal!” he exclaimed. “So you are there, are you? You
were going to run away, were you?”
Now that Herbert was actually discovered, his fear left him, and he
became perfectly self-possessed and confident.
“Yes, Mr. Holden,” he answered, quietly; “such is my intention.”
“Boldly spoken,” said Abner, provoked by our hero's coolness, for he had
hoped to find him terrified and pleading for forgiveness. “I admire your
frankness, and will try to equal it. I suppose you'll give it up as a
bad job now.”
“No, sir,” said Herbert, firmly.
“Take care, sir,” said Abner, in anger and astonishment. “Take care how
you defy me. Come down here at once.”
“What for?” inquired Herbert, without stirring.
“What for?” repeated Abner Holden. “That I may flog you within an inch
of your life.”
“That's no inducement,” said our hero, coolly.
“Do you refuse to obey me?” shouted Abner, stamping angrily.
“I refuse to be flogged. You don't get me down for any such purpose, Mr.
Holden.”
“Then, by Heaven, if you won't come otherwise, I'll come up and help you
down.”
The angry man at once commenced the ascent. Anger gave him strength,
and, though he was unaccustomed to climbing, he continued to mount
up about halfway to the first branching off, somewhat to Herbert's
uneasiness, for he felt there was a chance that he might fall into
Abner's clutches.
But Abner's success was only temporary. At the height of a dozen feet he
began to slip, and, despite his frantic struggles, he slid gradually to
the ground, tearing his coat, which he had not taken the precaution to
remove, and blistering his hands.
What was to be done?
In his anger and excitement, he drew a pistol from his breast pocket,
and pointed upward, saying menacingly, “Come down at once, you young
rascal, or I will fire!”
Herbert was startled. He did not believe the pistol to be loaded. Still
it might be.
“Will you come down?” repeated Abner, fiercely. “Quick, or I fire.”
Herbert's cheek was pale, but in a resolute voice he answered, “I will
not.”
Abner Holder, laid his finger upon the trigger, and would, in his anger,
have carried his threat into execution; but at the critical moment he
was conscious of a violent blow, and the pistol was wrenched from his
hand.
Turning quickly, he met the stern glance of Ralph the Ranger.