On, on, Benny ran, each moment expecting to feel Ivan’s rough grasp on his shoulder. But at a sudden cry from the Polish boy he turned his head, to see Ivan wildly leaping in an opposite direction over bushes and logs; and making the best of his chances, Benny proceeded to get out of the woods as soon as possible without waiting to see what was wrong with his pursuer. And before long he was on the open road.
“I wonder what was the matter with him,” thought Benny. “He acted as if he were scared to death; as if he thought something was after him.”
He never did find out what had frightened Ivan, but the truth of the matter was that a big black snake, of the variety called familiarly a “racer,” had appeared in the path between Ivan and his victim, and Ivan had been terrified at sight of the creature which seemed about to pursue him as he was pursuing Benny. So in great fright he turned and fled, and only overcame his fear sufficiently to return to the house long after Benny was safe beyond his reach.
But the encounter gave Benny sufficient anxiety to make him very cautious about meeting Ivan, and he was in a state of nervous terror whenever Ivan came near him in the strawberry field, while he was filled with apprehension when he thought about undertaking another trip to Mr. Welch’s.
But fortune again favored him, for when he went to the house the next morning for breakfast he missed from the kitchen the old colored cook, and found in her place Mrs. Bentley looking anxious and worried.
“You’ll have to make out the best you can this morning,” she said, turning to the hands. “Roxy is sick, and there isn’t a soul to help me. I’m at my wits’ ends; picking season, and so much to do, and I hardly know which way to turn.”
“Don’t you bother about us,” said one of the men, “we’ll make out.”
Benny watched the slight little woman lifting heavy pots and pans from the stove, and sprang to help her.
All the time he was eating his breakfast there was a struggle going on within him. He felt that he ought to offer to help Mrs. Bentley, but that meant giving up his earnings in the strawberry field; on the other hand, it would be a great relief to be out of Ivan’s way, and perhaps that fact as much as his real generosity made him linger, after the men had left the kitchen, to say, shyly, “Can I help you?”
Mrs. Bentley turned in surprise. “You? Why, what can you do?”