“What is up here, young man? I will let you know right here that there is going to be no running away from this ranch! You get that grip where it belongs, in a hurry,” thundered the irate father.
“I am going away to find work. I shall take care of myself from this time on,” said the boy resolutely facing the angry man.
“Take care of yourself,” sneered his father, “you could not exist a month on your own resources. You take those clothes out of that grip and stop this nonsense!”
“I am going away, and you need not try to hinder me,” said Austin in firm, even tones.
A fearful oath escaped the father’s lips and he grabbed the whip which the sobbing Harry had brought; for as much as Harry loved Austin he dare not disobey his father’s command. Turning again to Austin, the man thundered, “I’ll thrash you within an inch of your life. Don’t you dare to tell me you are going away when I forbid it. For once you will obey me.”
Just then the engine gave a warning sound, which meant that without immediate attention it would stop running, so the enraged man turned about without another word and went out, leaving the frightened children looking after him. But the pause was only for a moment. Austin seized his opportunity and, picking up the suitcase and bidding the children a hasty farewell, he bolted out of the door and across the lot to freedom. He had been running as hard as he could go when still he heard the wails of the children and heard them calling to him. He took a course across the unbroken lands where there was not so much as a foot-path. In his timber-cutting he had become familiar with the lay of the land and took this rough way on purpose that his father might have difficulty in following him. He ran for almost a mile before he slackened his pace, and at every step he seemed to feel his father right behind him. He knew that now his father would be so angry as to have no sense at all, but would beat him nearly to death.
When at the edge of the river-bottom he stopped to take a breath he found that he was wet to the skin and that he had stepped into low places where the water had come up over his shoe-tops. And he remembered too that he had not a penny in his pockets, nor a bite to eat. A more forlorn boy could not be found than Austin as he stood there and looked across to the farmhouses along the river. But he smiled a little to himself as he thought, “I am one fellow who actually ran away from home. It was no walk away.”
As he approached the river he found the lowlands much more wet and marshy than it had been in the hills, and he had to wade above his shoes a good deal of the time, and still the heavy drizzle kept up. He made for a farmhouse where he hoped to get work. As he came up he wished in his heart that the man would ask him no questions about his condition; for he saw that besides the wet and mud, he had torn his clothes in several places. But he was determined that if any questions were asked he would tell the truth, just as it was. He would not shield either his father or himself. His cause should stand upon its own foundation. He believed that almost any one would approve of his leaving home under the circumstances.
He knocked at the farmhouse door, and the man of the house answered his rap and hospitably invited the boy in. It was a temptation; but Austin remembered his soppy condition and did not like to soil the housewife’s floors, so refused to enter.
“I am looking for work. Have you anything I can do?” he said.