“Good!” said Ralph, approvingly. “Tell me about it.”
Herbert drew near, and told his story.
Ralph listened attentively.
“Boy,” said he, “I think you are honest. There are not many that can be said of. As for Abner Holden, I know him. He's a mean skinflint. Pah!” and he spit, contemptuously. “You'd better not go back to him.”
“I don't mean to,” said Herbert, promptly.
“What are your plans? Have you formed any?”
“I want to go to New York.”
“To New York,” repeated Ralph, thoughtfully. “You wish to get into the crowd, while I seek to avoid it. But it is natural to youth. At your age, it was so with me. I hope, my boy, the time will not come when you, like me, will wish to shun the sight of men.”
Herbert listened in sympathy, not unmingled with surprise, to the speech of this man, which was quite superior to what might have been expected from one of his appearance.
“When do you wish to start?” asked Ralph, after a pause.