“I’m er goin’ to the railroad fust, an’ then from thar to the city to give the fox skin to the man, an’ to larn things.”
“Larn things,” said the man scornfully, not being in the best of humour after the previous day’s dissipation. “Huh! I s’pose ye’ll be goin’ to some er them city schools. Ye better go on back whar you come from. Schoolin’ ain’t no good ter anybody. Hit’s them schools whut larns folks to go ’round pesterin’ other folks, breakin’ up ‘stills.’ Folks has got jest as good er right ter make whiskey es anything else,” which showed in what he was especially interested.
Steve made no answer for the man was too forbidding in his irritability, but the boy kept to his determination to press on at once towards the railroad. After breakfast was over he went back to see the woman of the house, and in lazy kindness she said she wished she had a little bread and meat to give him but “there wan’t none left,” which Steve was quite prepared to hear, for there were many mouths to feed and never any left.
“I hope ye’ll git thar all right. I reckons ye’ll git somethin’ to eat on the road, and ef ye’re ever to 52 come this-a-way agin come an’ see us,” she drawled as she smoked.
“Ye been mighty good ter me,” said Steve, “an’ I ain’t nuver goin’ ter forgit it.”
He passed the children about the door-step, his fox skin under his arm, and they stood and watched him leave with a sort of sorrowful solemnity. Goodbyes are a thing unknown to mountain folk.
Then he walked off without much thought as to direction, having a definite impression, however, as to the way he should go, which was part instinct and partly remembrance of what the boy on the moving wagon had told him. The people he had left were too inert to think of giving him any instructions. But down the road he passed the big boys of the house sitting idly by the roadside. They had heard with satisfaction their father’s opinion as to Steve’s going in search of “larnin’.” As Steve came in sight one of them nudged the other and said, “Less throw him off the scent.”
“Which-a-way ye goin’, Bub?” he asked when Steve came up.
Then for the first time Steve stopped and thought.
“Why, that-a-way,” he replied pointing.